Alright, as some of you may recall, I write fanfic as a hobby.
For those who don't know what fanfic is, that's probably for the best, but the short story is that there are people out there who write stories for other peoples' characters. There's no money involved, just the practice of writing and the joy we get from the readers' responses.
Anyway. I've gotten slack lately, and I've decided that since my Beta is on vacation for a couple of weeks that I'm going to have some pieces ready for her when she gets back.
It's going to break down like this:
My ongoing, oh, my god, why did you turn out so long, you were only meant to be 10k words, why are you breaking 30k and not even remotely done, I blame my Beta SO MUCH, why???? fic, aka: The Art of Breaking. It's ongoing, and I try to break the chapters into 5k words. I want to have another chapter of that ready for her, so the goal is 5k. The current count is.... 500 words: 500/5,000
The you damn well better be much shorter, I'm not telling the Beta about you, no, no, not until you're done because she's actually my evil twin and will make it all worse fic, aka: The Only Thing You Save. I don't really have a mental word count for this one, but let's call it 10k just to give us a goal. The current count is: 727/10,000
And the holy crap no, no, I'm not writing a Star Trek fic, go away ideas, please...but lookit that cute little plot bunny...fic. But that one's unstarted and we'll call that a bonus round.
The goal is to write at least 500 words a night on both of the stories, with maybe some ST:ITD fic if the mood strikes.
Expect whining about how Writing Is Hard for the foreseeable future.
Hopefully mixed in amongst Posts of Actual Content.
Showing posts with label fanfic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fanfic. Show all posts
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Friday, February 8, 2013
Fanfic Author Problem # 14
It's all the little details.
Like, okay, so I write this scene and it's kind of a gross scene, on purpose because what's happening is awful and I'm trying to be realistic, right? And basically the character is cleaning up vomit, trying to hide it but he has nothing to clean it with and nowhere to hide it. So he cleans it up with his hands and it all very graphic and that's awesome because that's what I was going for.
My beta told me it was excellently gross. :D
And then she's like...'but if you want to tone down the grossness a bit, maybe have him use the corner of the sheet? Because you didn't even have him clean his hands off when he was done.'
*Dammit*. OF COURSE he cleaned off his hands afterward, the whole point is to *hide* the evidence and I know that he cleaned off his hands but if I don't type it onto the page then no one else knows because as wonderful as my readers are, they're not freaking psychics!
Or at least I hope they're not because man, there is some weird crap in my head and no one needs that.
Why can't all my writing just be, 'And then they sexed. The end.'
But noooooo...I have to have delusions of plot.
ps: and even if it was just 'and then the sex' fic, there's still all the limbs to keep track of and the anatomical rules of reality. Like I one time commentboxed a fic for a kinkmeme and when I went back to edit it later I realized that the guy would have had to have been an acrobat of *incredible* flexibleness in order to do what I said he did.
Like, okay, so I write this scene and it's kind of a gross scene, on purpose because what's happening is awful and I'm trying to be realistic, right? And basically the character is cleaning up vomit, trying to hide it but he has nothing to clean it with and nowhere to hide it. So he cleans it up with his hands and it all very graphic and that's awesome because that's what I was going for.
My beta told me it was excellently gross. :D
And then she's like...'but if you want to tone down the grossness a bit, maybe have him use the corner of the sheet? Because you didn't even have him clean his hands off when he was done.'
*Dammit*. OF COURSE he cleaned off his hands afterward, the whole point is to *hide* the evidence and I know that he cleaned off his hands but if I don't type it onto the page then no one else knows because as wonderful as my readers are, they're not freaking psychics!
Or at least I hope they're not because man, there is some weird crap in my head and no one needs that.
Why can't all my writing just be, 'And then they sexed. The end.'
But noooooo...I have to have delusions of plot.
ps: and even if it was just 'and then the sex' fic, there's still all the limbs to keep track of and the anatomical rules of reality. Like I one time commentboxed a fic for a kinkmeme and when I went back to edit it later I realized that the guy would have had to have been an acrobat of *incredible* flexibleness in order to do what I said he did.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
FanFic Writer Problem # 376
That awkward moment when you have to admit that yes, you are in fact 27k words into that 10k word fic you've been writing.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Not dead, just busy. Work's been crazy, which is when I usually do my blogging. Shhhhhh....don't tell anyone. ;)
And my brain has kind of been eaten by a fic I'm writing, so my free time at home is taken up with that.
Ah, the trials of the single and childless. Which time wasting hobby shall I indulge in next? *rolls around in her things which are free of drool* Mostly. Some of my things have drool on them.
But that's a story for another post.
Here, have some Loki:
No lie, this song freaks out my cats. I love it.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to being a terrible person.
No really. You're just going to have to trust me on this. Most of you DON'T WANT TO KNOW.
Also, Bane.
All arguments are invalid.
I may have seen this movie three times.
Don't judge me.
Okay, judge away. I don't care.
And my brain has kind of been eaten by a fic I'm writing, so my free time at home is taken up with that.
Ah, the trials of the single and childless. Which time wasting hobby shall I indulge in next? *rolls around in her things which are free of drool* Mostly. Some of my things have drool on them.
But that's a story for another post.
Here, have some Loki:
No lie, this song freaks out my cats. I love it.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to being a terrible person.
No really. You're just going to have to trust me on this. Most of you DON'T WANT TO KNOW.
Also, Bane.
All arguments are invalid.
I may have seen this movie three times.
Don't judge me.
Okay, judge away. I don't care.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Silliness and then a serious question. But you have to get through the silliness first.
Black Widow to Captain America (after Thor nabs Loki out of the Quinjet and Tony jumps out after them): You don't want to get caught up in that. They're from Norse legend! They're basically gods!
Captain America (as he jumps out of the plane): There's only one God, ma'am, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that.
I can't be the only one who thought, 'No, he dresses like this:
'Now which one is sillier? Yeah. That's right. My boys wear *armour*.
Okay, ridiculousness. over. Time for the serious question. Is anyone reading this familiar with the history of Islam in the US? In the sense that they'd be able to tell me how likely it would be for someone in the 1940s to convert to Islam and serve in WWII? I may need this information for a story I'm thinking about writing. So it's not critical information or anything...
Captain America (as he jumps out of the plane): There's only one God, ma'am, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that.
 |
| How my boys dress. There's nothing wrong with it. Look at Loki's coat! So much gorgeousness! |
I can't be the only one who thought, 'No, he dresses like this:
'Now which one is sillier? Yeah. That's right. My boys wear *armour*.
Okay, ridiculousness. over. Time for the serious question. Is anyone reading this familiar with the history of Islam in the US? In the sense that they'd be able to tell me how likely it would be for someone in the 1940s to convert to Islam and serve in WWII? I may need this information for a story I'm thinking about writing. So it's not critical information or anything...
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Fanfic Has Ruined Me, or Books Should Come with Kink Listings & Trigger Warnings
a/k/a: More than most of you *ever* wanted to know about fanfic
*Note: This post is being written under the influence of frappucino. You've been warned.
So in the fanfic world it is generally considered polite (read: required), though not everyone does it, to include kink tags and warnings on your fics if any apply. There are plenty of fics to which none of this applies of course, but if you *do* write fic that contains kinks which might squick (turn people off) or interest people, you list them. It's partially how people find fics that they want to read and how people know which fics that they don't want to read. With any other content that is not necessarily sexual in nature but might trigger someone reading it, you list it as a 'Warning'.
For example, a kink listing could be: D/s, possessiveness, biting, bondage. Or it could be something as 'benign' as 'sleepy sex on the deck'. It doesn't have to necessarily be something that the majority of people find 'kinky' because as I said, it's basically used as a way to know if you're going to be interested in the action inside of the fic or not.
Warnings are a little bit more important. There are some things that should be warned for automatically. Things that could trigger a bad reaction in people reading the fic. For example: rape, incest, dubious consent, character death, suicide or suicidal thoughts/ideation, violence, eating disorders (anorexia, bulemia, etc.), mental illness, abuse, kidnapping.... The list could go on and on. But I think you get the idea, right? Things that a person could have issues with. As a real life example, my home town was hit by a hurricane several years ago. I was here for it and it was bad. We were personally lucky - though there was damage to our house, we still had a house standing and most of a roof afterward. Many of our neighbors weren't so lucky, and some people died. For a good while after the hurricane, I was unable to watch anything on television portraying catastrophic storms without feeling nauseated and anxious in a way that I hadn't felt before the hurricane hit us. So I wound up turning those shows off until they no longer caused that reaction in me.
Okay then. These things are, as I said, considered basic courtesy at the least, absolute required etiquette at the most in the fanfic world. (There are, of course, people who don't realize this, or miss listing something. There's not really a handbook and people have to learn by observing and interacting.)
No such rules apply in books. So you can pick up a book and have no idea that there might be something in there that will squick you or trigger you. And I think that that's kind of...not shitty, but I think it's something that maybe the mainstream, the 'norms', can learn from us and adapt. I came to this realization while reading a book last night. It's called 'A Private Hunger' by Sean Michaels and it's m/m story.
This is the back of the book blurb, which is really what most people use to decide whether they want to pick up the book or not. That and the cover:
"Matthew is taking a break before going to university, working at a cafe in Seattle. He's expecting to spend a few months meeting people, having fun and generally living it up before hitting the books. Then he meets Drakon, a passionate, masculine man with an animal magnetism that draws Matthew in. When Drakon offers Matt a job, he thinks the man is full of shit. But it soon turns out to be an offer he can't refuse. As Matthew moves in with Drakon on his country estate, he slowly finds himself cut off from the world. He begins to wonder if that animal magnetism is more literal than figurative and he thinks maybe Dragon would be a better name for his new lover. His only friend seems to be Drakon's butler, Wetthers, an old man with a gentle demeanor and a sympathetic ear. But even Wetthers can't save him from the near-obsessive need he has for Drakon, or from the danger that lurks right on the edge of his new life. Soon, Matt begins to wonder if he'll ever have the will to tell Drakon no. About anything. Will Matthew stay with the man he's growing to love once he discovers Drakon's long-lived, carefully guarded secret?"
Typical romance novel schpiel, essentially. Here's the thing. I'm...*checks* 66 pages into the book and if this was fanfic it would need so *many* kink listings and warnings.
The blurb is actually kind of misleading, in a way. When I read it, I came away with the impression that Matthew eventually takes Drakon's offer of employment and that their romance builds from there. What *actually* happens is that Matthew turns down Drakon (a totally random stranger who walks up to him and says, 'come work for me!' within two seconds of meeting him), then just happens to get beat up where Drakon finds and rescues him. Actually, that's pretty standard romance novel too, the fortuitous rescue. Where it gets kink and warning worthy is when Drakon takes Matthew home, keeps him drugged unconscious 'for his own good' while he heals, and then manipulates him into staying every time he tries to leave to get back to his life. There's also the part where Drakon keeps thinking that if Matthew actually tries to leave he's going to have to *eat him*. And not in the fun way people. Not in the fun way. And how something Drakon does keeps somehow overwriting what Matthew intends to do and makes him forget why he wants to do it in the first place.
I'm not saying it's a good book, mind you. I'm not too impressed with it at this point, but I'm not even half way through it. But for the love of god, this book needs warnings and a freaking kink listing. Abduction, drugging, dubious consent at best, manipulation. Creeper behavior in an (admittedly) non human character. Possessiveness. Animalistic behavior. There's probably going to be some BDSM at some point, I'm sure.
Happily, none of these things are triggery for me. But what about the people for whom they are? Reviews don't mention these things. It's not on the blurb. I think that people deserve to be warned, that they deserve to have the option to see what they're getting into and know if they want to read about that kind of kink or not.
So, yeah. TLDR: Books should come with kink listings and trigger warnings.
ETA: And the book just keeps getting worse. Let's add stalking and controlling behavior to the list. *headdesk*
*Note: This post is being written under the influence of frappucino. You've been warned.
So in the fanfic world it is generally considered polite (read: required), though not everyone does it, to include kink tags and warnings on your fics if any apply. There are plenty of fics to which none of this applies of course, but if you *do* write fic that contains kinks which might squick (turn people off) or interest people, you list them. It's partially how people find fics that they want to read and how people know which fics that they don't want to read. With any other content that is not necessarily sexual in nature but might trigger someone reading it, you list it as a 'Warning'.
For example, a kink listing could be: D/s, possessiveness, biting, bondage. Or it could be something as 'benign' as 'sleepy sex on the deck'. It doesn't have to necessarily be something that the majority of people find 'kinky' because as I said, it's basically used as a way to know if you're going to be interested in the action inside of the fic or not.
Warnings are a little bit more important. There are some things that should be warned for automatically. Things that could trigger a bad reaction in people reading the fic. For example: rape, incest, dubious consent, character death, suicide or suicidal thoughts/ideation, violence, eating disorders (anorexia, bulemia, etc.), mental illness, abuse, kidnapping.... The list could go on and on. But I think you get the idea, right? Things that a person could have issues with. As a real life example, my home town was hit by a hurricane several years ago. I was here for it and it was bad. We were personally lucky - though there was damage to our house, we still had a house standing and most of a roof afterward. Many of our neighbors weren't so lucky, and some people died. For a good while after the hurricane, I was unable to watch anything on television portraying catastrophic storms without feeling nauseated and anxious in a way that I hadn't felt before the hurricane hit us. So I wound up turning those shows off until they no longer caused that reaction in me.
Okay then. These things are, as I said, considered basic courtesy at the least, absolute required etiquette at the most in the fanfic world. (There are, of course, people who don't realize this, or miss listing something. There's not really a handbook and people have to learn by observing and interacting.)
No such rules apply in books. So you can pick up a book and have no idea that there might be something in there that will squick you or trigger you. And I think that that's kind of...not shitty, but I think it's something that maybe the mainstream, the 'norms', can learn from us and adapt. I came to this realization while reading a book last night. It's called 'A Private Hunger' by Sean Michaels and it's m/m story.
This is the back of the book blurb, which is really what most people use to decide whether they want to pick up the book or not. That and the cover:
"Matthew is taking a break before going to university, working at a cafe in Seattle. He's expecting to spend a few months meeting people, having fun and generally living it up before hitting the books. Then he meets Drakon, a passionate, masculine man with an animal magnetism that draws Matthew in. When Drakon offers Matt a job, he thinks the man is full of shit. But it soon turns out to be an offer he can't refuse. As Matthew moves in with Drakon on his country estate, he slowly finds himself cut off from the world. He begins to wonder if that animal magnetism is more literal than figurative and he thinks maybe Dragon would be a better name for his new lover. His only friend seems to be Drakon's butler, Wetthers, an old man with a gentle demeanor and a sympathetic ear. But even Wetthers can't save him from the near-obsessive need he has for Drakon, or from the danger that lurks right on the edge of his new life. Soon, Matt begins to wonder if he'll ever have the will to tell Drakon no. About anything. Will Matthew stay with the man he's growing to love once he discovers Drakon's long-lived, carefully guarded secret?"
Typical romance novel schpiel, essentially. Here's the thing. I'm...*checks* 66 pages into the book and if this was fanfic it would need so *many* kink listings and warnings.
The blurb is actually kind of misleading, in a way. When I read it, I came away with the impression that Matthew eventually takes Drakon's offer of employment and that their romance builds from there. What *actually* happens is that Matthew turns down Drakon (a totally random stranger who walks up to him and says, 'come work for me!' within two seconds of meeting him), then just happens to get beat up where Drakon finds and rescues him. Actually, that's pretty standard romance novel too, the fortuitous rescue. Where it gets kink and warning worthy is when Drakon takes Matthew home, keeps him drugged unconscious 'for his own good' while he heals, and then manipulates him into staying every time he tries to leave to get back to his life. There's also the part where Drakon keeps thinking that if Matthew actually tries to leave he's going to have to *eat him*. And not in the fun way people. Not in the fun way. And how something Drakon does keeps somehow overwriting what Matthew intends to do and makes him forget why he wants to do it in the first place.
I'm not saying it's a good book, mind you. I'm not too impressed with it at this point, but I'm not even half way through it. But for the love of god, this book needs warnings and a freaking kink listing. Abduction, drugging, dubious consent at best, manipulation. Creeper behavior in an (admittedly) non human character. Possessiveness. Animalistic behavior. There's probably going to be some BDSM at some point, I'm sure.
Happily, none of these things are triggery for me. But what about the people for whom they are? Reviews don't mention these things. It's not on the blurb. I think that people deserve to be warned, that they deserve to have the option to see what they're getting into and know if they want to read about that kind of kink or not.
So, yeah. TLDR: Books should come with kink listings and trigger warnings.
ETA: And the book just keeps getting worse. Let's add stalking and controlling behavior to the list. *headdesk*
Monday, May 7, 2012
Regularly Scheduled Things Will Resume Never
I saw the Avengers twice this weekend.
And then I wrote Avengers fic.
So yeah. That happened.
Also, it made $207.4 million dollars its opening weekend. Because it's Just. That. Incredible.
And then I wrote Avengers fic.
So yeah. That happened.
Also, it made $207.4 million dollars its opening weekend. Because it's Just. That. Incredible.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Bag of Bones
So A&E is making a mini-series of the novel Bag of Bones. On the one hand, yay! Because I love that book. On the other, Stephen King adaptations do not tend to go well for the most part.
With two exceptions. The Stand and The Shining. The original one with Jack Nicholson. Not 100% true to the book, of course, but I think it's closer to the spirit than the remake (which I kind of like anyway, but I eat junkfood too so that doesn't mean anything).
Also, I have an AO3 account. So. You know. I've been distracted by cleaning things up and posting them. Priorities, I has them.
ps: It was nice seeing Jo again. And then I'm looking forward to next week with the power of a thousand burning suns. James Marsters *and* Charisma Carpenter? I may not survive.
With two exceptions. The Stand and The Shining. The original one with Jack Nicholson. Not 100% true to the book, of course, but I think it's closer to the spirit than the remake (which I kind of like anyway, but I eat junkfood too so that doesn't mean anything).
Also, I have an AO3 account. So. You know. I've been distracted by cleaning things up and posting them. Priorities, I has them.
ps: It was nice seeing Jo again. And then I'm looking forward to next week with the power of a thousand burning suns. James Marsters *and* Charisma Carpenter? I may not survive.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Camp NaNo
Turns out I'm not writing the fill for that prompt I mentioned. Though I'm holding on to that for maybe later.
I decided to do the sequel to another long fill I did called Lost in a Life, where the punishment for breaking the Laws isn't death, but being enslaved by a collar. Harry kills Justin, etc. and winds up eventually being bought by Marcone. The original prompt was for dubcon, but the fill was definitely noncon (in the sense that Harry *couldn't* say no), with mindfuckery, etc. So now I'm writing the sequel to that, where things happen four years after the first one ended and Harry gets part of his control back and John has to deal with that and the fact that stockholm goes both way and then I'm throwing Hendricks in the mix so it's going to wind up as a threesome. *headdesk*
tl:dr - slave au's are awesome and I'm writing more of one
I decided to do the sequel to another long fill I did called Lost in a Life, where the punishment for breaking the Laws isn't death, but being enslaved by a collar. Harry kills Justin, etc. and winds up eventually being bought by Marcone. The original prompt was for dubcon, but the fill was definitely noncon (in the sense that Harry *couldn't* say no), with mindfuckery, etc. So now I'm writing the sequel to that, where things happen four years after the first one ended and Harry gets part of his control back and John has to deal with that and the fact that stockholm goes both way and then I'm throwing Hendricks in the mix so it's going to wind up as a threesome. *headdesk*
tl:dr - slave au's are awesome and I'm writing more of one
Thursday, June 30, 2011
TWO THINGS! Both Dresden Files related, god help us all...
1 - There's a Camp NaNo this year. So...uh...I'm doing that? WTH. Pretty sure it'll be this prompt from the kinkmeme: 'Ever since I read With or Without, I've been obsessing about the following:
"My dreams, every night since I'd seen Thomas were...they were filled with Marcone. And not the old one, the one where Marcone drugged me and locked me up in a tiny cell beneath his mansion until I broke."
I really, really want to read about Marcone drugging Harry and locking him up in a tiny cell beneath his mansion until he broke. Gen is good, Marcone/Harry is better.'
I'd originally thought to split off from canon toward the end of Fool Moon, but someone commented suggesting the end of the train scene in Death Masks. And...I like it. So probably that.
2 - TALK ME OFF THE LEDGE! I'm considering buying my copy of Ghost Story and getting it signed through the Dog Eared Books Virtual Signing. Which would mean that the copy of the book would cost me about $35 instead of $14. Keeping in mind that I'm also buying the book on Kindle for $14 and audiobook for $30. So I don't need it signed, right? Right?
"My dreams, every night since I'd seen Thomas were...they were filled with Marcone. And not the old one, the one where Marcone drugged me and locked me up in a tiny cell beneath his mansion until I broke."
I really, really want to read about Marcone drugging Harry and locking him up in a tiny cell beneath his mansion until he broke. Gen is good, Marcone/Harry is better.'
I'd originally thought to split off from canon toward the end of Fool Moon, but someone commented suggesting the end of the train scene in Death Masks. And...I like it. So probably that.
2 - TALK ME OFF THE LEDGE! I'm considering buying my copy of Ghost Story and getting it signed through the Dog Eared Books Virtual Signing. Which would mean that the copy of the book would cost me about $35 instead of $14. Keeping in mind that I'm also buying the book on Kindle for $14 and audiobook for $30. So I don't need it signed, right? Right?
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Fic - no title. damn. can't post it til I get home anyway, since I don't have the prompt saved in my email
I was tired. Not physically, though there was that little aching sensation in my limbs and head that told me I was pushing too hard. No, this was mental. This last ParaNet case had not ended well. Not enough information, not enough time and it had turned bloody before everything was done.
I needed to relax. I needed not to think.
I dropped everything off at my apartment and fed Mister. Then I grabbed Mouse and an overnight bag I kept packed and ready and headed back out. The drive out to Marcone's place didn't take very long. It was past midnight in the middle of winter. No one was out who didn't have to be out.
The guard on duty at the front gate recognized my car, but he did the fully security check anyway. Marcone did not hire substandard goons. They were all very, very good at their jobs. Once I was cleared he retreated back to his little hut and opened the gates for me. He would also be calling up to the house to let them know I was coming. Routine.
Random Mafia Goon #34 was waiting at the top of the driveway by the time the Beetle sputtered up. By the looks of him he'd been waiting a little too long. He wasn't wearing a heavy enough coat and was shivering a little. Someone hadn't read their report on me thoroughly. I got myself and Mouse out of the car and we went up the steps and into the house, leaving Goon to park my car somewhere where it wouldn't be bringing down the property values. Hendricks was waiting in the front hall, toasty and warm. He might even have been glowing a little with radiated heat.
"Boss'll be out in a bit. He's on a call." I grunted and waved in acknowledgment. Mouse paused long enough to shake Hendricks' hand and then followed me to our little room at the back of the house. My dog had better manners than I did. Of course, my dog was also smarter than I was, so it wasn't that big of a shock.
The room wasn't meant to be a guest bedroom. It was spare and barely decorated. Someplace to stow someone if you really had to. A single bed, short enough that my legs dangled off at the knees if I tried to lay out on it, a nightstand and a closet. The feature I'd chosen it for was the door that led out onto Marcone's giant back porch. Portico. Whatever a porch is called when it's the size of half a football field and has levels. I closed the door from the house into the room but didn't lock it, dropped my bag onto the bed and then unlocked the door to the outside.
Mouse sat down by the door, jaws parted in a doggy grin as he watched me strip and toss the clothes onto the bed beside my bag. Nude, I took a few deep breaths and concentrated, focusing on the spell I needed. It was a fairly simple one, the same spell that Terra had taught to Billy and the other Alphas. The tricky part came in picturing the wolf I wanted to become. But having hung with the Alphas for so long and having been wolf-ish through the use of that hexenwulf belt, it took me less time to get the spell right than it had the kids when they were learning it.
I breathed in, muttered the spell, and in the next breath I was wolf. I shook myself out, fur fluffing up and then settling back down. Mouse padded around, inspecting and then wandered back over to the outside door. Standing on his back legs he pushed down on the handle and his weight bore the door open, wind catching it and flinging it back. I was still stretching everything out, testing limbs when he came back around and nosed me in the butt. I jumped and whirled, snaping at him in surprise. Mouse just bared his teeth, reminding me of who was alpha around here. I whined and rolled over, giving him my belly. He licked my chin and then nosed me again, rolling me back over.
I stood and let Mouse lead the way. We trotted over the expanse of the porch and then we were out from under the roof, crunching through the snow. Mouse glanced back at me, grinned and wagged his tail, and we were off.
~
They played for hours.
I watched from the kitchen, warm coffee at hand as they chased one another, chased poor hapless bunnies, chased the snow itself. They barked and rolled, tackling each other and nipping playfully at thick fur. It looked like fun. Like children playing - carefree and happy.
He is battered, tired and strained with too much pain and stress building up over and over again, pressing on cracks that had been inexpertly plastered over. Most people would either give up and have a break down or relieve their stress some other way. Sex is an ever popular choice. But Harry did none of that. Harry came to my home in the middle of the night and turned into a wolf.
I'd asked him once, the next morning over coffee why. He'd told me that he could let go when he was the wolf. He didn't have to think about anything except for what his senses were telling him and what instinct wanted to do if he didn't want to. Nothing else he had found gave him the option of just shutting down like that.
They came to the kitchen door near dawn. Giant, primal shadows against the white of the snow. Harry as a wolf was huge and dark furred, and yet still impossibly slender next to his own dog. Mouse knocked, thumping one huge paw against the door beside it's handle. I rose and opened it, letting them in.
There was a bowl of water waiting and they both lapped it up, Harry with joyful canine abandon, splashing water out onto the tile and Mouse with far more care. It was sad, really. His dog had better manners than he did.
Once done, Harry sat in the door leading back into the house and looked at me, then yawned rather pointedly I thought. I double-checked the locks on the outside door and then we headed into the house and up the stairs. My men had been briefed about my occasional canine visitors and none of the ones that we passed made any comment aside from a polite 'good night'.
In my room, by the time I finished my ablutions, Mouse was sprawled on the extra large dog bed I'd had installed near the heating vent. Harry was still up, sitting in the middle of my bed, staring at my bathroom door. Have you ever had a wolf stare intently at you? It's disturbing, even when you know the wolf in question. I climbed up into bed and Harry shifted, giving me room to get comfortable.
I reached up a clicked off the lights and Harry shifted on the bed, laying down so that his shaggy head was snugged up against my side. I settled my hand against the top of his head, fingers rubbing and scratching behind his ears as we both closed our eyes to sleep.
I needed to relax. I needed not to think.
I dropped everything off at my apartment and fed Mister. Then I grabbed Mouse and an overnight bag I kept packed and ready and headed back out. The drive out to Marcone's place didn't take very long. It was past midnight in the middle of winter. No one was out who didn't have to be out.
The guard on duty at the front gate recognized my car, but he did the fully security check anyway. Marcone did not hire substandard goons. They were all very, very good at their jobs. Once I was cleared he retreated back to his little hut and opened the gates for me. He would also be calling up to the house to let them know I was coming. Routine.
Random Mafia Goon #34 was waiting at the top of the driveway by the time the Beetle sputtered up. By the looks of him he'd been waiting a little too long. He wasn't wearing a heavy enough coat and was shivering a little. Someone hadn't read their report on me thoroughly. I got myself and Mouse out of the car and we went up the steps and into the house, leaving Goon to park my car somewhere where it wouldn't be bringing down the property values. Hendricks was waiting in the front hall, toasty and warm. He might even have been glowing a little with radiated heat.
"Boss'll be out in a bit. He's on a call." I grunted and waved in acknowledgment. Mouse paused long enough to shake Hendricks' hand and then followed me to our little room at the back of the house. My dog had better manners than I did. Of course, my dog was also smarter than I was, so it wasn't that big of a shock.
The room wasn't meant to be a guest bedroom. It was spare and barely decorated. Someplace to stow someone if you really had to. A single bed, short enough that my legs dangled off at the knees if I tried to lay out on it, a nightstand and a closet. The feature I'd chosen it for was the door that led out onto Marcone's giant back porch. Portico. Whatever a porch is called when it's the size of half a football field and has levels. I closed the door from the house into the room but didn't lock it, dropped my bag onto the bed and then unlocked the door to the outside.
Mouse sat down by the door, jaws parted in a doggy grin as he watched me strip and toss the clothes onto the bed beside my bag. Nude, I took a few deep breaths and concentrated, focusing on the spell I needed. It was a fairly simple one, the same spell that Terra had taught to Billy and the other Alphas. The tricky part came in picturing the wolf I wanted to become. But having hung with the Alphas for so long and having been wolf-ish through the use of that hexenwulf belt, it took me less time to get the spell right than it had the kids when they were learning it.
I breathed in, muttered the spell, and in the next breath I was wolf. I shook myself out, fur fluffing up and then settling back down. Mouse padded around, inspecting and then wandered back over to the outside door. Standing on his back legs he pushed down on the handle and his weight bore the door open, wind catching it and flinging it back. I was still stretching everything out, testing limbs when he came back around and nosed me in the butt. I jumped and whirled, snaping at him in surprise. Mouse just bared his teeth, reminding me of who was alpha around here. I whined and rolled over, giving him my belly. He licked my chin and then nosed me again, rolling me back over.
I stood and let Mouse lead the way. We trotted over the expanse of the porch and then we were out from under the roof, crunching through the snow. Mouse glanced back at me, grinned and wagged his tail, and we were off.
~
They played for hours.
I watched from the kitchen, warm coffee at hand as they chased one another, chased poor hapless bunnies, chased the snow itself. They barked and rolled, tackling each other and nipping playfully at thick fur. It looked like fun. Like children playing - carefree and happy.
He is battered, tired and strained with too much pain and stress building up over and over again, pressing on cracks that had been inexpertly plastered over. Most people would either give up and have a break down or relieve their stress some other way. Sex is an ever popular choice. But Harry did none of that. Harry came to my home in the middle of the night and turned into a wolf.
I'd asked him once, the next morning over coffee why. He'd told me that he could let go when he was the wolf. He didn't have to think about anything except for what his senses were telling him and what instinct wanted to do if he didn't want to. Nothing else he had found gave him the option of just shutting down like that.
They came to the kitchen door near dawn. Giant, primal shadows against the white of the snow. Harry as a wolf was huge and dark furred, and yet still impossibly slender next to his own dog. Mouse knocked, thumping one huge paw against the door beside it's handle. I rose and opened it, letting them in.
There was a bowl of water waiting and they both lapped it up, Harry with joyful canine abandon, splashing water out onto the tile and Mouse with far more care. It was sad, really. His dog had better manners than he did.
Once done, Harry sat in the door leading back into the house and looked at me, then yawned rather pointedly I thought. I double-checked the locks on the outside door and then we headed into the house and up the stairs. My men had been briefed about my occasional canine visitors and none of the ones that we passed made any comment aside from a polite 'good night'.
In my room, by the time I finished my ablutions, Mouse was sprawled on the extra large dog bed I'd had installed near the heating vent. Harry was still up, sitting in the middle of my bed, staring at my bathroom door. Have you ever had a wolf stare intently at you? It's disturbing, even when you know the wolf in question. I climbed up into bed and Harry shifted, giving me room to get comfortable.
I reached up a clicked off the lights and Harry shifted on the bed, laying down so that his shaggy head was snugged up against my side. I settled my hand against the top of his head, fingers rubbing and scratching behind his ears as we both closed our eyes to sleep.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Note to Self
I will not write fanfic at work anymore.
Or at least I will not writethat THOSE fics at work. Fluffy non-sex fics I feel okay getting away with. THOSE fics, not so much. Mmmm...none of that stops me from thinking and planning. :)
The meme is eating my life. I'm okay with that.
Or at least I will not write
The meme is eating my life. I'm okay with that.
Friday, January 21, 2011
The Lure on the 'Anon'
*eyes are glazed over*
So...spending a lot of time on the Dresden kinkmeme. A lot. I've filled...only three. Okay. That's not like an addiction or anything. And even when I fill the other ones I'm eyeing it won't be an addiction. Because I can stop at any time! But back to the three I've done.
Two of them are fluffy and sweet.
One...not so much.
The two that are nice I'd have no problem de-anoning for. Because they're nice. You've seen one of them, the Geekery one. Nice, yeah?
The third. The third is dark. Like, okay, I love dark fic. I love it. But I've always been too ashamed to write it and share it because, um, DARK. And there's always this idea that if people see the dark things that excite you that they'll be disgusted. Which could happen. Dark is not for everyone. I get that. I get that not all people share my kinks in fic or in life. But there's that normal fear of being rejected.
But the anon *solves* all that. I can write and be dark and kinky and awful and no one knows that it's *me*. I know that this is the internet and no one knows me in person anyway, but the anon is just another layer. I can write a really sweet fic one second and then torture somebody the next and no one knows it's the same person writing.
It's beautiful.
So...spending a lot of time on the Dresden kinkmeme. A lot. I've filled...only three. Okay. That's not like an addiction or anything. And even when I fill the other ones I'm eyeing it won't be an addiction. Because I can stop at any time! But back to the three I've done.
Two of them are fluffy and sweet.
One...not so much.
The two that are nice I'd have no problem de-anoning for. Because they're nice. You've seen one of them, the Geekery one. Nice, yeah?
The third. The third is dark. Like, okay, I love dark fic. I love it. But I've always been too ashamed to write it and share it because, um, DARK. And there's always this idea that if people see the dark things that excite you that they'll be disgusted. Which could happen. Dark is not for everyone. I get that. I get that not all people share my kinks in fic or in life. But there's that normal fear of being rejected.
But the anon *solves* all that. I can write and be dark and kinky and awful and no one knows that it's *me*. I know that this is the internet and no one knows me in person anyway, but the anon is just another layer. I can write a really sweet fic one second and then torture somebody the next and no one knows it's the same person writing.
It's beautiful.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Fic: Geekery
Note: Just for the record, if you see this at the meme, don't rat me out! I'm anon from shame for a few of my fills over there. That's the joy of anon, I can write with abandon and have no fear of being judged...
If you'd asked me what I'd be doing tonight I would have said something about staying home, reading a good book, maybe playing around down in the lab. Normal every day stuff. Being trapped inside a basement with Marcone and Billy the Boy Werewolf would not have been on the list. But here I was, nine o'clock at night, warded into a fairly cramped basement with Marcone against the far wall and Billy semi-naked beside me.
Marcone had handed Billy his suit jacket when he shifted back into human form so at least he was mostly covered. So there we were, safe enough behind the ward, but stuck until sunrise. Marcone was just sitting there, eyes closed. Hell, he might have even been asleep. I, on the other hand, was very much awake. And very much bored. We'd been here for an hour already and I was not going to fall asleep braced against the bare stone wall and the scratchy concrete floor. Billy didn't look like he was going to get any rest either.
"So. Wanna talk about baseball?" Billy shook his head and laughed.
"Hell no." There was another minute or so of silence. "Did you hear about the villains for the next Nolan Batman?"
"Huh. No."
"Right, right. No internet. So they've cast Anne Hathaway as Catwoman and Tom Hardy as Bane."
"Anne Hatha- isn't she that Princess Diaries chick? How'd she get cast as Catwoman?!?"
"Not a clue. I'm actually more concerned that you've seen the Princess Diaries right now. Look, she's a good actress. Did you see her in Brokeback Mountain? Or what about the new Alice in Wonderland? I don't think you're giving her enough credit here. Every actor starts out in less than Emmy worthy movies."
"Hey. I can't sit in a theater without blowing out the projectors. I have to take what I can get at the drive-in. And sure, she's a fine actress. But sexy? Not so much. Catwoman is a predator. She goes toe to toe with Batman and holds her own through sheer freaking attitude sometimes. I don't get that vibe off of Hathaway. And who the hell is Tom Hardy?"
"I think you'll be surprised with her. You've just got to trust Nolan on this one. Hardy was...uh...have you seen Inception?"
"No." I said it sullenly. Everyone was talking about it and then when they realized I hadn't seen it they'd shut up because they didn't want to 'ruin it' for me. "As soon as I can, I will. But I haven't had the chance."
"You are seriously deprived, man. Anyway. Hardy's in that, and he was in Nemesis way back. Oh! And Black Hawk Down."
"Don't know 'im." I could feel Billy roll his eyes even though I couldn't see it in the dim lighting.
"Right. Well, I'll find pictures for you sometime. He's good, though I wonder how they're going to do Bane with him. Bane's a huge guy in the comics."
"Didn't they already have Bane in the movies?"
"Schumacher." Billy could put a lot of scorn into just that one word and he added on a spitting sound, just for effect. "Those don't count. They're a travesty and an insult to the characters."
"Don't hold back, let us know how you really feel about it." I grinned, laughing. "What do you want to see in this one? It's gonna be Nolan's last, right?"
"That's what he says. I kind of hope not though. The man's done beautiful work. Oddly enough, I think I want to see them introduce Robin. They've had the major villains, or will have - Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face, Ra's al Ghul..."
"Can he be a major villain if no one who's not a Batman geek knows who he is? Everyone knows the others even if they aren't fans, but al Ghul is sort of obscure."
"Hey, he's a major player in the comics, so he counts. Hell, he's taken on Superman and come out in one piece. Immortal, crazy, obsessed with fixing the world...hey! I think he might actually be one of your enemies!"
"So funny." I flipped him off good-naturedly. "But really, Robin? The kid in the short-shorts?"
"Robin's suit has had pants for at least twenty years." Billy's mouth had been open, but it wasn't him speaking. We both turned our heads to stare across the room at Marcone. He had opened his eyes and was leaning forward, just a bit.
"The short pants were last used by the second Robin, Jason Todd. His successor's suit was redesigned, adding in armour and greater weaponry. One of the changes was pants, similar to those on the Bat suit. If Nolan was to introduce a Robin character to his canon it would need to be an amalgamation of at least two of the comics canon Robins. I cannot picture the original Grayson Robin faring well in Mr. Nolan's darker world. Todd would fit with the violence and grittiness, but his popularity has always been questionable. I suppose that might not be an issue in the films given that he wouldn't be the replacement for Grayson. Drake would do nicely - he's unquestionably the smartest and arguably borderline sociopathic in addition, but his back story would have to be utterly altered given that his entry into the Batman mythos is predicated on Grayson's story.
"Brown wasn't Robin long enough to make an impression, though I suppose the allure of having the first female Robin on screen might make her a possibility. Damian is simply out of the question. His back story would require changes to the canon of the movies already established and a rather large leap forward in time to make it feasible. Given my choice I would have a version of Drake appear, but I suspect that they will stick with the name of Grayson and tweak the character to fit better in universe."
I couldn't even talk. I was just staring. Billy leaned forward, intent.
"How do you get 'borderline sociopathic' for Drake? He's brilliant, and intense, no question. But he's a good guy."
"He is a stalker. Why does everyone dismiss that particular fact? He focused on one person to the extent that that person took over his entire life. Everything he did from early child hood on up was designed to allow him to be close to the focus of his obsession. I'll grant you that he didn't turn violent, but Jason's death and Batman's decline prompted him into action, allowed him to actually be with the object of his desires during the earlier stages of puberty. There is no telling what twists he might have taken if left to his own devices. It's really rather good for the DC universe that he obsessed with Batman and Grayson rather than Luther or some other villain. His focus is laser tight - the Mission. Do you doubt that he would do anything that Batman asked, if it was for the good of the Mission? I don't. His morality is almost entirely tied up in what Batman has said is good and evil. Drake is the perfect successor for the mantle. He is also the perfect fail safe for Batman. Would Grayson have the strength of will to kill Wayne if it came to that?"
Billy paused. "No." It was admitted with great reluctance.
"So Drake it is. He would, if it was necessary, kill Wayne to spare the legacy and the Mission of the Bat. He would kill one of the few people on earth that he feels anything for because it would be what that man wanted. How is that not outside the realms of normal mental function?"
"Fine, fine. Drake's a ticking time bomb. But he's a weapon on the right side. The good guys would never let him go too far."
"Only because he's too dangerous to be left to chance. I would love to see his character done right in a film." Marcone was leaning his elbows on his thighs, intent on the conversation. I bit my lip, grinning. The look on his face was usually reserved for hostile takeovers - planning out attack and counter-measure.
"So, Johnny...how big is your geek room?" I tried to make my voice sound normal, to repress the unvoiced laughter, but it was impossible.
"I have-" Marcone stopped and his eyes cleared suddenly. I could hear his teeth clack together he shut his mouth so fast. I scooted forward a bit, so I could see him better. There was a faintly darker color creeping up his throat and his ears, coloring his cheeks. I couldn't help it. I laughed.
Billy shook his head as I flopped back onto the floor, smacking my head in the process and just let it roar out. Marcone huffed and stood, shoes scraping against the concrete.
"Really, Dresden. Am I not allowed to have hobbies?" And then he moved past me and pushed my legs out of his way to take my former space beside Billy. The two of them eyed me for a second and then bent their heads together, arguing point and counterpoint.
If you'd asked me what I'd be doing tonight I would have said something about staying home, reading a good book, maybe playing around down in the lab. Normal every day stuff. Being trapped inside a basement with Marcone and Billy the Boy Werewolf would not have been on the list. But here I was, nine o'clock at night, warded into a fairly cramped basement with Marcone against the far wall and Billy semi-naked beside me.
Marcone had handed Billy his suit jacket when he shifted back into human form so at least he was mostly covered. So there we were, safe enough behind the ward, but stuck until sunrise. Marcone was just sitting there, eyes closed. Hell, he might have even been asleep. I, on the other hand, was very much awake. And very much bored. We'd been here for an hour already and I was not going to fall asleep braced against the bare stone wall and the scratchy concrete floor. Billy didn't look like he was going to get any rest either.
"So. Wanna talk about baseball?" Billy shook his head and laughed.
"Hell no." There was another minute or so of silence. "Did you hear about the villains for the next Nolan Batman?"
"Huh. No."
"Right, right. No internet. So they've cast Anne Hathaway as Catwoman and Tom Hardy as Bane."
"Anne Hatha- isn't she that Princess Diaries chick? How'd she get cast as Catwoman?!?"
"Not a clue. I'm actually more concerned that you've seen the Princess Diaries right now. Look, she's a good actress. Did you see her in Brokeback Mountain? Or what about the new Alice in Wonderland? I don't think you're giving her enough credit here. Every actor starts out in less than Emmy worthy movies."
"Hey. I can't sit in a theater without blowing out the projectors. I have to take what I can get at the drive-in. And sure, she's a fine actress. But sexy? Not so much. Catwoman is a predator. She goes toe to toe with Batman and holds her own through sheer freaking attitude sometimes. I don't get that vibe off of Hathaway. And who the hell is Tom Hardy?"
"I think you'll be surprised with her. You've just got to trust Nolan on this one. Hardy was...uh...have you seen Inception?"
"No." I said it sullenly. Everyone was talking about it and then when they realized I hadn't seen it they'd shut up because they didn't want to 'ruin it' for me. "As soon as I can, I will. But I haven't had the chance."
"You are seriously deprived, man. Anyway. Hardy's in that, and he was in Nemesis way back. Oh! And Black Hawk Down."
"Don't know 'im." I could feel Billy roll his eyes even though I couldn't see it in the dim lighting.
"Right. Well, I'll find pictures for you sometime. He's good, though I wonder how they're going to do Bane with him. Bane's a huge guy in the comics."
"Didn't they already have Bane in the movies?"
"Schumacher." Billy could put a lot of scorn into just that one word and he added on a spitting sound, just for effect. "Those don't count. They're a travesty and an insult to the characters."
"Don't hold back, let us know how you really feel about it." I grinned, laughing. "What do you want to see in this one? It's gonna be Nolan's last, right?"
"That's what he says. I kind of hope not though. The man's done beautiful work. Oddly enough, I think I want to see them introduce Robin. They've had the major villains, or will have - Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face, Ra's al Ghul..."
"Can he be a major villain if no one who's not a Batman geek knows who he is? Everyone knows the others even if they aren't fans, but al Ghul is sort of obscure."
"Hey, he's a major player in the comics, so he counts. Hell, he's taken on Superman and come out in one piece. Immortal, crazy, obsessed with fixing the world...hey! I think he might actually be one of your enemies!"
"So funny." I flipped him off good-naturedly. "But really, Robin? The kid in the short-shorts?"
"Robin's suit has had pants for at least twenty years." Billy's mouth had been open, but it wasn't him speaking. We both turned our heads to stare across the room at Marcone. He had opened his eyes and was leaning forward, just a bit.
"The short pants were last used by the second Robin, Jason Todd. His successor's suit was redesigned, adding in armour and greater weaponry. One of the changes was pants, similar to those on the Bat suit. If Nolan was to introduce a Robin character to his canon it would need to be an amalgamation of at least two of the comics canon Robins. I cannot picture the original Grayson Robin faring well in Mr. Nolan's darker world. Todd would fit with the violence and grittiness, but his popularity has always been questionable. I suppose that might not be an issue in the films given that he wouldn't be the replacement for Grayson. Drake would do nicely - he's unquestionably the smartest and arguably borderline sociopathic in addition, but his back story would have to be utterly altered given that his entry into the Batman mythos is predicated on Grayson's story.
"Brown wasn't Robin long enough to make an impression, though I suppose the allure of having the first female Robin on screen might make her a possibility. Damian is simply out of the question. His back story would require changes to the canon of the movies already established and a rather large leap forward in time to make it feasible. Given my choice I would have a version of Drake appear, but I suspect that they will stick with the name of Grayson and tweak the character to fit better in universe."
I couldn't even talk. I was just staring. Billy leaned forward, intent.
"How do you get 'borderline sociopathic' for Drake? He's brilliant, and intense, no question. But he's a good guy."
"He is a stalker. Why does everyone dismiss that particular fact? He focused on one person to the extent that that person took over his entire life. Everything he did from early child hood on up was designed to allow him to be close to the focus of his obsession. I'll grant you that he didn't turn violent, but Jason's death and Batman's decline prompted him into action, allowed him to actually be with the object of his desires during the earlier stages of puberty. There is no telling what twists he might have taken if left to his own devices. It's really rather good for the DC universe that he obsessed with Batman and Grayson rather than Luther or some other villain. His focus is laser tight - the Mission. Do you doubt that he would do anything that Batman asked, if it was for the good of the Mission? I don't. His morality is almost entirely tied up in what Batman has said is good and evil. Drake is the perfect successor for the mantle. He is also the perfect fail safe for Batman. Would Grayson have the strength of will to kill Wayne if it came to that?"
Billy paused. "No." It was admitted with great reluctance.
"So Drake it is. He would, if it was necessary, kill Wayne to spare the legacy and the Mission of the Bat. He would kill one of the few people on earth that he feels anything for because it would be what that man wanted. How is that not outside the realms of normal mental function?"
"Fine, fine. Drake's a ticking time bomb. But he's a weapon on the right side. The good guys would never let him go too far."
"Only because he's too dangerous to be left to chance. I would love to see his character done right in a film." Marcone was leaning his elbows on his thighs, intent on the conversation. I bit my lip, grinning. The look on his face was usually reserved for hostile takeovers - planning out attack and counter-measure.
"So, Johnny...how big is your geek room?" I tried to make my voice sound normal, to repress the unvoiced laughter, but it was impossible.
"I have-" Marcone stopped and his eyes cleared suddenly. I could hear his teeth clack together he shut his mouth so fast. I scooted forward a bit, so I could see him better. There was a faintly darker color creeping up his throat and his ears, coloring his cheeks. I couldn't help it. I laughed.
Billy shook his head as I flopped back onto the floor, smacking my head in the process and just let it roar out. Marcone huffed and stood, shoes scraping against the concrete.
"Really, Dresden. Am I not allowed to have hobbies?" And then he moved past me and pushed my legs out of his way to take my former space beside Billy. The two of them eyed me for a second and then bent their heads together, arguing point and counterpoint.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Fic: The Women
I have no idea where I was going with this...it just sort of peters out.
~
Britt would chase anything that moved. That had always been the way, ever since he'd discovered the species known as girl. He was neither picky nor discriminating.
Was she pretty and willing? Then he was there.
Blonde, brunette, red head, short, tall, whatever. It never mattered.
And there was no predicting who he would bring back to the house. Never any rhyme or reason. He didn't go through a phase of one or the other. It was just whoever caught his eye at that moment.
So it didn't take long for Kato to notice that Britt's pattern of no pattern had changed.
It started with brunettes. One brunette leaving the house early in the morning meant nothing. But when it was a brunette every single time for a month it became important. A hint that something had changed. So Kato started to pay closer attention to the women.
There were subtle changes along the way. Long curly hair disappeared for straight hair. Then the hair got progressively shorter, though it stopped around bob length. Soft curves gave way to runners' bodies, long and lean. Then came the women who clearly focused on strength as well - delicate feminine muscles that tensed and moved beneath smooth skin with unconscious grace. Beautiful, every one.
Britt hovered there for a while, seeing women of that general description for several months. Then brunettes gave way to women with sleek black hair. These women tended to be colder, more arrogant than the others and Kato had no idea where Britt was finding them. They ignored Kato, treated him like a piece of the scenery and none of them ever lasted long.
Then came a boys' night. In the aftermath, when Kato woke the next morning on his stomach in a nest of blankets and pillows in the middle of Britt's floor, he found Britt staring at him. His expression was intent and very serious until he realized that Kato was awake. Then he became all loud noises and jerky movements, poking at everything and anything.
The women went from pale mistresses of the night or tanned sun goddesses to slightly different shades. The woman who lasted the longest, a whole month, was Korean. She at least had been polite, right up until the fight. Britt had forgotten about her and their date, gotten lost in the details of Kato's latest project which he was fascinated by even though he was forbidden to touch anything and she'd stormed into the garage. The sight of them greasy and crouched next to one of the cars stopped her short and her eyes flicked from Britt to Kato and then back again.
She had spit something that was probably unpleasant at them in Korean and then turned and stormed out again, muttering under her breath the entire way.
Britt had looked puzzled and Kato had just shrugged and gone back to pointing out the newest modifications he'd made, flicking Britt's hands every time he tried to look with his hands.
~
Britt would chase anything that moved. That had always been the way, ever since he'd discovered the species known as girl. He was neither picky nor discriminating.
Was she pretty and willing? Then he was there.
Blonde, brunette, red head, short, tall, whatever. It never mattered.
And there was no predicting who he would bring back to the house. Never any rhyme or reason. He didn't go through a phase of one or the other. It was just whoever caught his eye at that moment.
So it didn't take long for Kato to notice that Britt's pattern of no pattern had changed.
It started with brunettes. One brunette leaving the house early in the morning meant nothing. But when it was a brunette every single time for a month it became important. A hint that something had changed. So Kato started to pay closer attention to the women.
There were subtle changes along the way. Long curly hair disappeared for straight hair. Then the hair got progressively shorter, though it stopped around bob length. Soft curves gave way to runners' bodies, long and lean. Then came the women who clearly focused on strength as well - delicate feminine muscles that tensed and moved beneath smooth skin with unconscious grace. Beautiful, every one.
Britt hovered there for a while, seeing women of that general description for several months. Then brunettes gave way to women with sleek black hair. These women tended to be colder, more arrogant than the others and Kato had no idea where Britt was finding them. They ignored Kato, treated him like a piece of the scenery and none of them ever lasted long.
Then came a boys' night. In the aftermath, when Kato woke the next morning on his stomach in a nest of blankets and pillows in the middle of Britt's floor, he found Britt staring at him. His expression was intent and very serious until he realized that Kato was awake. Then he became all loud noises and jerky movements, poking at everything and anything.
The women went from pale mistresses of the night or tanned sun goddesses to slightly different shades. The woman who lasted the longest, a whole month, was Korean. She at least had been polite, right up until the fight. Britt had forgotten about her and their date, gotten lost in the details of Kato's latest project which he was fascinated by even though he was forbidden to touch anything and she'd stormed into the garage. The sight of them greasy and crouched next to one of the cars stopped her short and her eyes flicked from Britt to Kato and then back again.
She had spit something that was probably unpleasant at them in Korean and then turned and stormed out again, muttering under her breath the entire way.
Britt had looked puzzled and Kato had just shrugged and gone back to pointing out the newest modifications he'd made, flicking Britt's hands every time he tried to look with his hands.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
HALP!
So, um, I'm considering posting the mpreg fic to MafiaBanter, even though it's only just started, etc. I'm kind of loving it and my beta loves it...
BUT I need a title.
Thoughts? Do any of you see any issues with it I need to clean up before I post?
And most importantly, title ideas! I *suck* at titles.
BUT I need a title.
Thoughts? Do any of you see any issues with it I need to clean up before I post?
And most importantly, title ideas! I *suck* at titles.
I Love the Interwebs!
THERE IS A DRESDEN FILES KINKMEME!
THERE IS A KINKMEME FOR EVERYTHING!
*stalks it*
THERE IS A KINKMEME FOR EVERYTHING!
*stalks it*
*bounces in chair*
Guess what's back tonight?
Guess. Guess.
WHITE COLLAR! *spins around happily*
Neal! Peter! Peter and Neal! And Elizabeth too!
And Mozzie! Mozzie better not be dead. I mean, I like Paul Blackthorne and all (hiya Harry!), but I love Mozzie and he must not be dead. Mustn't.
*returns to gazing upon the pretties*
Also, I want a hat. I want a Neal-hat.
And I can't decide if I should write more Kato/Britt or more Dresden mpreg. I mean, I'll do both eventually. But which do I want to do now?
Guess. Guess.
WHITE COLLAR! *spins around happily*
Neal! Peter! Peter and Neal! And Elizabeth too!
And Mozzie! Mozzie better not be dead. I mean, I like Paul Blackthorne and all (hiya Harry!), but I love Mozzie and he must not be dead. Mustn't.
*returns to gazing upon the pretties*
And I can't decide if I should write more Kato/Britt or more Dresden mpreg. I mean, I'll do both eventually. But which do I want to do now?
Monday, January 17, 2011
Fic dump-ish post
Okay, additional bit from the end of the last part of the museum stuff from the mpreg Dresden fic that I am not officially writing:
Marcone never really woke up. I mean Gard and Hendricks got him dressed and on his feet between the two of them, muttering and cursing at them in Italian, but he was not fully conscious. It was worrying and I asked them to wait while I checked him out. I poked and prodded but couldn't find any spells clinging to him - he was just really, really worn out.
We exited the museum more or less together. There was a huge black van parked right in front of the doors. A guy appeared from around the far side and slid the door open, revealing an interior that was probably nicer than my apartment. Hendricks let Gard take Marcone and hopped up into the van, causing it's body to sink several inches, then reached back and took Marcone again, guiding the half-conscious man into a seat and buckling him in.
I wished I had a camera. It would impair the whole, 'never talking about this again' plan, but how many people got to see Marcone being handled like a sleepy toddler? My eyes wandered a little and I noticed that there was a form sitting in the seat to the far side of Marcone. It was hard to see around the boulder that is Cujo but the person looked small, nearly fragile. I caught a glimpse of shoulder length brown hair and wrists that looked like they would shatter in a stiff breeze and then Hendricks shifted and blocked my view entirely. Huh. Curiouser and curiouser.
Gard was talking to the random mafia guy as they walked back to the other side of the vehicle. Hendricks loomed over Marcone and slammed the door shut. Which is kind of impressive when it's a sliding door. As he did so I grinned and mimed taking a picture. Weird magical doings was no excuse for not giving Hendricks shit. The mafia-mobile took off and I headed home for a quick shower and then several hours of sleep.
~
And now for something else that I am totally not writing. You don't see it.
Kato stood on the bottom step of Britt's porch, staring at the pool. Britt was already in, paddling idly and grinning at him.
"C'mon. You've got the trunks on so you might was well get in."
"I do not want-"
"Yes you do. You *asked me* to teach you to swim. Weird thing is, you have to get in the water for that. So get on in here!" Britt kicked over to the edge of the pool and rested his arms on the lip, the small scar in his shoulder smooth and unnatural against his tan. "Don't make me come over there and drag you in."
Kato snorted and rolled his eyes. But he came out of the shade of the porch and walked cautiously over to the steps at the shallow end of the pool. Britt slipped under the water and swam over to meet him, emerging from the water with a little tidal wave.
"We will take this slow, yes?" Kato dropped the towel he'd been carrying to the deck and stepped onto the first step, then on down until he was waist deep in the warm water.
"Slow as can be. We've got tons of time, I'm an awesome swimmer, and Mr. Lobster over here," Britt dragged the pool float off the edge of the pool and into the water with him. "will be here for backup." Kato nodded and Britt swam a little farther back, giving Kato room to come off of the steps and stand on the bottom of the pool. "First lesson: floating!"
"I do not float. I sink."
"*Everybody* floats. You don't float because you start flailing around like a nut job. Watch." Britt released the lobster and lay back, arms spread out a little bit from his body, just letting the water hold him and move him. It was so quiet and peaceful with his ears under the water all he could hear was the dull thud of his own pulse and breath, the slick slide of the water around him. He stayed like that for a few minutes until a hand wrapped around his ankle, dragging at him. Britt swung his legs down and under him until he was standing again. Kato was just standing there, his hand still resting on the surface of the water, staring at him.
"What?" The other man just shook his head, lips pressing together.
"I cannot do that."
"Sure you can! It just takes a little practice." Britt slapped the water softly, patting it almost. "Look, I'm going to be holding you, okay? You've gotta get used to the feel of the water, the way it moves around you. You need to learn that it'll hold you up. And then you can trust it and not flop around and make yourself sink."
"You will not let me go." Suspicion was clear in Kato's black eyes and in the set of his shoulders.
"Hey, are we xiong di or not? I won't let you go. I swear I'm not fucking around with you here. Trust me." He dropped lower in the water, until his shoulders were covered and held out his arms, waiting. Kato hesitated, long enough that Britt felt a stab of pain - the fact that his friend didn't trust him enough for this hurt. Then Kato sighed and started to lean back into the water.
Britt had to move to actually get under Kato, but manage to get into position so that by the time he was more or less laying down Kato could feel Britt's arms resting beneath his shoulders and the small of his back.
"Now you're just gonna relax, okay? I've got you. You're safe. You just need to relax and let your body feel the water moving." They were good for a few minutes, Kato slowly relaxing from the quivering tenseness of fear and then the pool pump kicked in. The noise startled Kato, loud in his ears after the relative silence and his head dipped, water splashing up into his nose and eyes. He spluttered and kicked, hands flicking out and smacking Britt across the jaw without any real force.
Britt staggered at the shifting weight in his arms but maintained his position, arms under the twitching man, lifting him a little more in the water. The realization that Britt was still there sank in and Kato slowly managed to get himself under control again. He opened his eyes and wiped the water out of them, smiling sheepishly at his friend.
"Sorry." Britt just shook his head.
"No problem man. You good?"
"Yes."
"Wanna try the next part?"
"What is it?" His voice had lost the earlier suspicion. Kato no longer sounded like he thought Britt was playing an elaborate and nasty prank on him.
"Same thing, mostly. You float, but this time without touching. I'll keep my arms right under you, but just a little deeper than before so you have to trust the water." Kato considered and then nodded. "Great. Ready?" Another nod and Britt let his arms drop, just a little. The water bobbed Kato up and down so that every so often his back would hit the outstretched arms, letting him know they were really still there.
Britt waited, and watched. He could see when Kato began to relax into it, finding the peace that Britt always had in the slow movement of the water. Gradually he dropped his arms a little more and then a little more until they were a good half a foot beneath Kato - still there in case of trouble, but letting him float on his own.
Kato had closed his eyes at some point and was smiling a little, just a curl at one corner of his lips, nothing like his usual smirk. A breeze ruffled Britt's hair and he shivered. The wind was cool against the drying skin on his neck. He brought his arms back up under Kato and jiggled him a little, getting his attention.
"Feel good?" he asked when Kato focused on him and lifted his head out to hear better.
"Yes. It is very nice when I am not drowning." Britt grinned again.
"Then we're ready for the last part of floating." Kato quirked an eyebrow in question. "Tandem floating!" Britt slowly pulled his arms out from beneath his friend as Kato watched. As he lost his support Kato's arms naturally spread out a little, balancing himself against the water. Once Britt was satisfied Kato wasn't going to sink like a stone he leaned himself back into the water, legs popping up. He twitched his feet a bit paddling the water and then floated, arms out.
Slender, callused fingers brushed his, accidental at first and then with intent. They slipped over his hand and then curled, joining them together but not gripping tightly in fear. Just a light touch, reminding each of them that the other was there.
Marcone never really woke up. I mean Gard and Hendricks got him dressed and on his feet between the two of them, muttering and cursing at them in Italian, but he was not fully conscious. It was worrying and I asked them to wait while I checked him out. I poked and prodded but couldn't find any spells clinging to him - he was just really, really worn out.
We exited the museum more or less together. There was a huge black van parked right in front of the doors. A guy appeared from around the far side and slid the door open, revealing an interior that was probably nicer than my apartment. Hendricks let Gard take Marcone and hopped up into the van, causing it's body to sink several inches, then reached back and took Marcone again, guiding the half-conscious man into a seat and buckling him in.
I wished I had a camera. It would impair the whole, 'never talking about this again' plan, but how many people got to see Marcone being handled like a sleepy toddler? My eyes wandered a little and I noticed that there was a form sitting in the seat to the far side of Marcone. It was hard to see around the boulder that is Cujo but the person looked small, nearly fragile. I caught a glimpse of shoulder length brown hair and wrists that looked like they would shatter in a stiff breeze and then Hendricks shifted and blocked my view entirely. Huh. Curiouser and curiouser.
Gard was talking to the random mafia guy as they walked back to the other side of the vehicle. Hendricks loomed over Marcone and slammed the door shut. Which is kind of impressive when it's a sliding door. As he did so I grinned and mimed taking a picture. Weird magical doings was no excuse for not giving Hendricks shit. The mafia-mobile took off and I headed home for a quick shower and then several hours of sleep.
~
And now for something else that I am totally not writing. You don't see it.
Kato stood on the bottom step of Britt's porch, staring at the pool. Britt was already in, paddling idly and grinning at him.
"C'mon. You've got the trunks on so you might was well get in."
"I do not want-"
"Yes you do. You *asked me* to teach you to swim. Weird thing is, you have to get in the water for that. So get on in here!" Britt kicked over to the edge of the pool and rested his arms on the lip, the small scar in his shoulder smooth and unnatural against his tan. "Don't make me come over there and drag you in."
Kato snorted and rolled his eyes. But he came out of the shade of the porch and walked cautiously over to the steps at the shallow end of the pool. Britt slipped under the water and swam over to meet him, emerging from the water with a little tidal wave.
"We will take this slow, yes?" Kato dropped the towel he'd been carrying to the deck and stepped onto the first step, then on down until he was waist deep in the warm water.
"Slow as can be. We've got tons of time, I'm an awesome swimmer, and Mr. Lobster over here," Britt dragged the pool float off the edge of the pool and into the water with him. "will be here for backup." Kato nodded and Britt swam a little farther back, giving Kato room to come off of the steps and stand on the bottom of the pool. "First lesson: floating!"
"I do not float. I sink."
"*Everybody* floats. You don't float because you start flailing around like a nut job. Watch." Britt released the lobster and lay back, arms spread out a little bit from his body, just letting the water hold him and move him. It was so quiet and peaceful with his ears under the water all he could hear was the dull thud of his own pulse and breath, the slick slide of the water around him. He stayed like that for a few minutes until a hand wrapped around his ankle, dragging at him. Britt swung his legs down and under him until he was standing again. Kato was just standing there, his hand still resting on the surface of the water, staring at him.
"What?" The other man just shook his head, lips pressing together.
"I cannot do that."
"Sure you can! It just takes a little practice." Britt slapped the water softly, patting it almost. "Look, I'm going to be holding you, okay? You've gotta get used to the feel of the water, the way it moves around you. You need to learn that it'll hold you up. And then you can trust it and not flop around and make yourself sink."
"You will not let me go." Suspicion was clear in Kato's black eyes and in the set of his shoulders.
"Hey, are we xiong di or not? I won't let you go. I swear I'm not fucking around with you here. Trust me." He dropped lower in the water, until his shoulders were covered and held out his arms, waiting. Kato hesitated, long enough that Britt felt a stab of pain - the fact that his friend didn't trust him enough for this hurt. Then Kato sighed and started to lean back into the water.
Britt had to move to actually get under Kato, but manage to get into position so that by the time he was more or less laying down Kato could feel Britt's arms resting beneath his shoulders and the small of his back.
"Now you're just gonna relax, okay? I've got you. You're safe. You just need to relax and let your body feel the water moving." They were good for a few minutes, Kato slowly relaxing from the quivering tenseness of fear and then the pool pump kicked in. The noise startled Kato, loud in his ears after the relative silence and his head dipped, water splashing up into his nose and eyes. He spluttered and kicked, hands flicking out and smacking Britt across the jaw without any real force.
Britt staggered at the shifting weight in his arms but maintained his position, arms under the twitching man, lifting him a little more in the water. The realization that Britt was still there sank in and Kato slowly managed to get himself under control again. He opened his eyes and wiped the water out of them, smiling sheepishly at his friend.
"Sorry." Britt just shook his head.
"No problem man. You good?"
"Yes."
"Wanna try the next part?"
"What is it?" His voice had lost the earlier suspicion. Kato no longer sounded like he thought Britt was playing an elaborate and nasty prank on him.
"Same thing, mostly. You float, but this time without touching. I'll keep my arms right under you, but just a little deeper than before so you have to trust the water." Kato considered and then nodded. "Great. Ready?" Another nod and Britt let his arms drop, just a little. The water bobbed Kato up and down so that every so often his back would hit the outstretched arms, letting him know they were really still there.
Britt waited, and watched. He could see when Kato began to relax into it, finding the peace that Britt always had in the slow movement of the water. Gradually he dropped his arms a little more and then a little more until they were a good half a foot beneath Kato - still there in case of trouble, but letting him float on his own.
Kato had closed his eyes at some point and was smiling a little, just a curl at one corner of his lips, nothing like his usual smirk. A breeze ruffled Britt's hair and he shivered. The wind was cool against the drying skin on his neck. He brought his arms back up under Kato and jiggled him a little, getting his attention.
"Feel good?" he asked when Kato focused on him and lifted his head out to hear better.
"Yes. It is very nice when I am not drowning." Britt grinned again.
"Then we're ready for the last part of floating." Kato quirked an eyebrow in question. "Tandem floating!" Britt slowly pulled his arms out from beneath his friend as Kato watched. As he lost his support Kato's arms naturally spread out a little, balancing himself against the water. Once Britt was satisfied Kato wasn't going to sink like a stone he leaned himself back into the water, legs popping up. He twitched his feet a bit paddling the water and then floated, arms out.
Slender, callused fingers brushed his, accidental at first and then with intent. They slipped over his hand and then curled, joining them together but not gripping tightly in fear. Just a light touch, reminding each of them that the other was there.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Egg baby or real pregnancy. I can't decide!
Everything ached.
The haze lifted slowly, sensation returning bit by bit but every sensation that came back was achy and tired. It felt like I'd been running or lifting weights or something. Not painful, but I knew I'd been doing some work. Thinking past that, I realized that I was flat on my back, pinned by something warm and comfortably heavy. I grunted and opened my eyes, blinking to clear them.
Marcone's salt and pepper hair filled half of my vision. His body was the warm thing pinning me down. It took a second for the implications of that to sink through and then I jumped, which didn't get me far since I was still beneath him. He shifted a little at my jerky movement and muttered, sliding his arm up my side and threading his fingers through my hair, holding me still. It was all very gentle and I realized that Marcone was asleep. Holy hell. I wasn't sure what to freak out about first. That Marcone and I were both very very naked or that Marcone was a snuggler. Or maybe I should be freaking out about Gard and Hendricks who had moved from where ever they'd been standing and were now looming over us.
"Uh." Gard's face was impassive, but Hendricks looked pissed. It's hard to tell that from his normal expression, but I was fairly certain he was trying to decide on the quickest way to rip my head off. I could almost see smoke trickling from his ears. Then I blinked and realized that the smoke really was there. "Hey, Cujo, did you know you're on fire?" Thin wisps of smoke were dancing off of his short red hair which did, now that I was paying attention, look a bit singed. There was more smoke coming off of his clothes as well.
"Not any longer. We put him out a few moments ago." Ms. Gard reached out a hand and stopped it over something that I couldn't see until her hand got close. Then it lit up in a faintly reddish dome. The barrier was pretty big. Maybe ten feet high and when I turned my head I could see that there was plenty of room between us and the edge of it where it met the floor. "If you could drop the shield, Mr. Dresden?"
"That's not me."
"I am aware of that. However, you are the only wizard within the circle, so could you kindly attempt to will the circle away? It has withstood our efforts from the outside."
Well, that made a little bit of sense. I took a deep breath and pushed out with my will, trying to turn the circle 'off'. Nothing happened. I waited a second and nothing continued to happen. Crap. I reached up and took hold of the hand Marcone had in my hair. His fingers lost the loose hold they had and I pushed his arm back toward him and rolled until we were both on our sides. Marcone huffed, still asleep, and let me extricate myself. Unfortunately he took hold of my duster which had apparently been spread out on the floor under us and rolled in it like it was a blanket. Which left me bare ass and starting to shiver. Perfect.
I stood and did my best to ignore my little audience. Gard had stepped back and the dome vanished again until I took a few steps. It flared back into being as I got close to where the edge of it had been, only it wasn't red this time but the same faded green that I'd seen right before the lights went out. I felt around with my own power, trying to get a sense of what was powering this thing and what it might do to me. It didn't feel dangerous or malevolent. Just very solid. I knelt and pressed my hand forward, trying to wipe the circle away like I would with one that I'd drawn in chalk. I moved slowly and smashed my fingers into the very real wall of whatever. However it was done it was a hell of a shield. Fuck.
"It's pretty solid from this side. It's not reacting to me at all." I glanced over at Hendricks and then turned to Gard. "What did it do when you guys tried to take it down?"
"Nothing. It rebounds anything solid thrown at it with minimal damage and seems to have simply absorbed the magics I tried."
"That looks like a little more than minimal damage." I pointed at Hendricks' still smoking form. "You said he'd been on fire."
"Yes." Gard's mouth twitched in a small smile. "Mr. Hendricks thought that perhaps the bird had had something to do with this and tried to remove him from the situation. Your bird, unsurprisingly, is not a very cooperative soul." Hah."I got the creature back into its cage and we put Mr. Hendricks out." That little smile again. So glad I wasn't the only one who thought this was funny.
"If Dresden can't drop the shield from in there, what're we gonna do?" Hendricks was, clearly, trying to change the subject. I smiled at him and he turned away from me. "We gotta get the boss out of there."
"I am open to suggestions. Mr. Dresden?"
"I don't know. I have no clue what the hell is going on." I paused as a very unpleasant thought slid through my brain. "You two do know I didn't do this, right? I didn't attack Marcone. We were just standing there and suddenly, boom. Naked cuddling on the floor."
Gard shook her head. "I believe you. We arrived...shortly after the event. You were most definitely not the aggressor." She grinned, a real baring of her teeth in amusement and Hendricks' ears turned cherry red. Damn. I took a second and really catalogued my body. Sore, tired muscles, a slightly sharper pain on one side of my neck, and a fairly heavy throbbing pain in my ass. It wasn't awful but it was new and unpleasant. Now that I'd noticed it it wormed it's way into my consciousness, little claws digging into my lower back. Great. Just - just great. I made the executive decision to not think about it. "Regardless of how it happened, we do need to get you two out of there."
"Oh yeah. I would really, really like to be gone before Marcone wakes up." I hadn't quite closed my mouth and there was a shivering in the air around me. A small 'pop' echoed in my ear, like the air pressure changed and the shield flashed once, briefly and then disappeared. "Really?" I slowly stuck my arm out and through the space where the shield had been before. Nothing. I waved it up and down and side to side. Just air. "Huh. Well, there you go."
"Okay. Here's the plan. I'm going to find my pants." Gard picked them up from a display case to her right and tossed them at me. She had all of our clothes except for my duster it looked like. "Perfect. You two can have sleeping beauty over there. I'll take my coat. We'll all just walk away and never speak of this again. Sound good?" Gard rolled her eyes and moved to start extracting Marcone from my coat. Hendricks just nodded vigorously.
The haze lifted slowly, sensation returning bit by bit but every sensation that came back was achy and tired. It felt like I'd been running or lifting weights or something. Not painful, but I knew I'd been doing some work. Thinking past that, I realized that I was flat on my back, pinned by something warm and comfortably heavy. I grunted and opened my eyes, blinking to clear them.
Marcone's salt and pepper hair filled half of my vision. His body was the warm thing pinning me down. It took a second for the implications of that to sink through and then I jumped, which didn't get me far since I was still beneath him. He shifted a little at my jerky movement and muttered, sliding his arm up my side and threading his fingers through my hair, holding me still. It was all very gentle and I realized that Marcone was asleep. Holy hell. I wasn't sure what to freak out about first. That Marcone and I were both very very naked or that Marcone was a snuggler. Or maybe I should be freaking out about Gard and Hendricks who had moved from where ever they'd been standing and were now looming over us.
"Uh." Gard's face was impassive, but Hendricks looked pissed. It's hard to tell that from his normal expression, but I was fairly certain he was trying to decide on the quickest way to rip my head off. I could almost see smoke trickling from his ears. Then I blinked and realized that the smoke really was there. "Hey, Cujo, did you know you're on fire?" Thin wisps of smoke were dancing off of his short red hair which did, now that I was paying attention, look a bit singed. There was more smoke coming off of his clothes as well.
"Not any longer. We put him out a few moments ago." Ms. Gard reached out a hand and stopped it over something that I couldn't see until her hand got close. Then it lit up in a faintly reddish dome. The barrier was pretty big. Maybe ten feet high and when I turned my head I could see that there was plenty of room between us and the edge of it where it met the floor. "If you could drop the shield, Mr. Dresden?"
"That's not me."
"I am aware of that. However, you are the only wizard within the circle, so could you kindly attempt to will the circle away? It has withstood our efforts from the outside."
Well, that made a little bit of sense. I took a deep breath and pushed out with my will, trying to turn the circle 'off'. Nothing happened. I waited a second and nothing continued to happen. Crap. I reached up and took hold of the hand Marcone had in my hair. His fingers lost the loose hold they had and I pushed his arm back toward him and rolled until we were both on our sides. Marcone huffed, still asleep, and let me extricate myself. Unfortunately he took hold of my duster which had apparently been spread out on the floor under us and rolled in it like it was a blanket. Which left me bare ass and starting to shiver. Perfect.
I stood and did my best to ignore my little audience. Gard had stepped back and the dome vanished again until I took a few steps. It flared back into being as I got close to where the edge of it had been, only it wasn't red this time but the same faded green that I'd seen right before the lights went out. I felt around with my own power, trying to get a sense of what was powering this thing and what it might do to me. It didn't feel dangerous or malevolent. Just very solid. I knelt and pressed my hand forward, trying to wipe the circle away like I would with one that I'd drawn in chalk. I moved slowly and smashed my fingers into the very real wall of whatever. However it was done it was a hell of a shield. Fuck.
"It's pretty solid from this side. It's not reacting to me at all." I glanced over at Hendricks and then turned to Gard. "What did it do when you guys tried to take it down?"
"Nothing. It rebounds anything solid thrown at it with minimal damage and seems to have simply absorbed the magics I tried."
"That looks like a little more than minimal damage." I pointed at Hendricks' still smoking form. "You said he'd been on fire."
"Yes." Gard's mouth twitched in a small smile. "Mr. Hendricks thought that perhaps the bird had had something to do with this and tried to remove him from the situation. Your bird, unsurprisingly, is not a very cooperative soul." Hah."I got the creature back into its cage and we put Mr. Hendricks out." That little smile again. So glad I wasn't the only one who thought this was funny.
"If Dresden can't drop the shield from in there, what're we gonna do?" Hendricks was, clearly, trying to change the subject. I smiled at him and he turned away from me. "We gotta get the boss out of there."
"I am open to suggestions. Mr. Dresden?"
"I don't know. I have no clue what the hell is going on." I paused as a very unpleasant thought slid through my brain. "You two do know I didn't do this, right? I didn't attack Marcone. We were just standing there and suddenly, boom. Naked cuddling on the floor."
Gard shook her head. "I believe you. We arrived...shortly after the event. You were most definitely not the aggressor." She grinned, a real baring of her teeth in amusement and Hendricks' ears turned cherry red. Damn. I took a second and really catalogued my body. Sore, tired muscles, a slightly sharper pain on one side of my neck, and a fairly heavy throbbing pain in my ass. It wasn't awful but it was new and unpleasant. Now that I'd noticed it it wormed it's way into my consciousness, little claws digging into my lower back. Great. Just - just great. I made the executive decision to not think about it. "Regardless of how it happened, we do need to get you two out of there."
"Oh yeah. I would really, really like to be gone before Marcone wakes up." I hadn't quite closed my mouth and there was a shivering in the air around me. A small 'pop' echoed in my ear, like the air pressure changed and the shield flashed once, briefly and then disappeared. "Really?" I slowly stuck my arm out and through the space where the shield had been before. Nothing. I waved it up and down and side to side. Just air. "Huh. Well, there you go."
"Okay. Here's the plan. I'm going to find my pants." Gard picked them up from a display case to her right and tossed them at me. She had all of our clothes except for my duster it looked like. "Perfect. You two can have sleeping beauty over there. I'll take my coat. We'll all just walk away and never speak of this again. Sound good?" Gard rolled her eyes and moved to start extracting Marcone from my coat. Hendricks just nodded vigorously.
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