English, Rated: T
Characters: Angel, Wesley W.P., Darla, Connor
Chapters: 2, Words: 4,479, Reviews: 0, Rated: T, In-Progress
Imagine that Angel never sank to the bottom of the ocean at the end of season 3, instead he witnessed his son kill Holtz with the help of Wesley and the gang are reunited again. Discovering that Cordelia as Ascended to the higher plains, Darla is resurrected in her place and with her a whole new threat that will see Angel not only fight to save the world, but his own family.
And it's with mixed feelings. Because I loved season 3 to little pieces, and that fucking ending simply won't leave me alone. So this will get long and not entirely coherent as I try to piece together what The Return and Fire Walk With Me and all that it seems to do, before I try to let it sit for a while and then do a rewatch.
( The past dictates the future )
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Our main building, containing cafeteria, store, offices, classrooms, is under construction. An enormous scaffold surrounds the front doors. Today, exiting with a sustaining bannana in one hand, I heard the burr of welding and then felt a sudden hot-cold shower on the left side of my head, just about the region of the parietal lobe. I put up my hand and plucked a speck of grit from my hair.
As I crossed the quad and mounted the stairs to my building, I began to work out that I'd been sprayed with tiny bits of metal -- little curled chips of aluminum were in my hair and speckled my sweater-vest like glittering lint.
It was not a great cascade of sparks or anything -- just a smattering and a peculiar sensation -- but Jesus. That could have gone into my eye. I spent the whole of my lesson on proper quotation partially convinced that a speckling of tiny holes might newly pepper my skull, like a thought-colander.
After Ted Hughes
I imagine this midday moment's sensation-salad:
Something hot but lifeless
burrows into the occipital
makes a blank page of this field where
newly kindled hallucinations move
Sorry, Here's "The Thought-Fox" to Make Up for That
Actually by Ted Hughes
I imagine this midnight moment's forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.
Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:
Cold, delicately as the dark snow
A fox's nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now
Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come
Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Coming about its own business
Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox,
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.
* * * * *
I feel like "midnight moment's forest" must have kinship with Hopkins' "morning's morning's minion" from "The Windhover." Discuss.
Fine, Here's "The Windhover" As Well
Gerard Manley Hopkins
I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
* * * * *
Nobody alliterates like our Gerry.
Downdates (What an Update Isn't)
I skipped the monthly reading post for August because, well, there was so little to discuss. I have trouble directing sustained attention under conditions of anxiety (such as term prep). Combining with September will give the list a more respectable heft.
At least I'm transparent in my machinations.
Likewise I think if I'm writing a report on how the term is going -- which is an idea I like a lot as a way to chronicle the development of this course I love -- it'll have to be a biweekly report at best.
A propos of some (very positive) recent events -- I wish I didn't feel so terrible when happy things breathe themselves across the membrane.1
Something wonderful takes place and afterwards it feels like a crisis -- I can't be happy because I'm so convinced that it was secretly a disaster or I am about to make it one.
Too much jouissance. Not enough swimming laps and meditation.
1. Isn't transpire a great word? All those spire words are a gift basket from Latin: conspire (to breathe together); inspire (to breathe in); aspire (to breathe on); expire (to breathe out) -- my library card is about to breathe its last -- what else? What others? I love them.
2. Actually, if I weren't so tired I might write though the whole of "The Thought-Fox" just for the exercise.
I also still have quite a few things available in the virtual garage sale post that I put up several weeks ago. And I'm very much willing to haggle when it comes to listed prices, if you're interested in anything.
(Oh, and for those of you who donated to my Ko-fi page and requested fic, it's coming! The last few weeks have been absolutely hell, which deserves its own post, but things are calming down and I actually have time to breathe again.)
Thank you for the copy of All Systems Red, which I am really stoked about getting to read. (For the curious, my local bookstores didn't stock it.)
I have turned on anonymous comments for the moment, which are screened. If you'd like me to write you a thank-you flashfic, please feel free to leave a comment to this post. I'm probably going to turn off anonymous comments by week's end (sooner if I start having problems with spam comments).
Ring the alarum bells; phone or communicate with your representatives in whatever ways you are capable of.
TPM: Arizona Governor Backs O’care Repeal, Likely Securing McCain’s And Flake’s Votes
Possibly one of the guest kudos was theirs or maybe they left one under a different account. I'm pretty certain that the account I wrote for was a sock, so both of those are actually reasonably possible. I'd rather think that than that I accidentally hit all of their DNWs (no letter or details in the request).
The story really needed to be about twice as long as it ended up being, but August had bumps that ate all of my writing time, and part of me thinks that I really should have managed the character development/change I wanted in the 10823 words I wrote.
Title: For These Cramped Fragments
Fandom: Original fic
Pairing: Female Admiral/Captured Enemy Prince
Tags Rape/Non-Con, Science Fiction, Captivity, Politics, Stockholm Syndrome, War
Blurb: The very orderliness of the Scarlet’s surrender had been her first clue that her captain might not be as dead as his second claimed.
His father would have expected him to die rather than risk capture. Perhaps the new king had changed the standing orders since the old man's death. Perhaps not.
Apparently Captain Prince Vikenti wanted to live.
Notes: The Captive Audience exchange was for stories involving either Stockholm or Lima syndrome that showed the changing feelings of the captor and/or captive. There's more world building and character stuff than there is explicit sex, but the sex is in there, too.
Fic at AO3.
In short: This is my big epic post-NFA WIP, where Spike, Angel & Illyria go on a big quest to undo the power of W&H. It has PLOT. And lots of character development and stuff. It is part of a 'verse but can easily be read on its own - if you go to the first chapter you can read a swift summary of what has gone before. And I swear, this time I am actually going to finish it! (It really helps that I always had the whole thing planned out properly. This might be the only fic where I have ever known the ending from the start and actually know what I'm doing. *g*)
Also, I now have not just gorgeous icons by ruuger, but also a banner. Isn't it amazing?
First chapter & notes here (on LJ), for DW just follow the tags, and Master post of whole 'verse here (also tagged on DW).
Can also be found on AO3.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: Teen. (Same warnings as the show basically.)
Characters: Spike, Angel, Illyria, Buffy, Scoobies + cameos from more or less everyone in the 'verse.
Main Ships: Spike/Buffy, Angel/Nina
Feedback: Is bloody ambrosia! (The secret ingredient is otter...)
Word count (this chapter): 4700 words approx.
Setting and Summary: As before. (Post-NFA epic quest thing.)
Beta: The ever wonderful kathyh
( Chapter 8 )
I've got about two hours before Cordelia gets home, and I'm trying to figure out my priorities. I have to find another black pen so that I can finish filling out the Aetna claim forms (I knocked my last one under the loveseat and am not quite desperate enough to try to move that to retrieve it). I have a non-urgent email and a non-urgent phone call. There is an urgent-ish call on Scott's list, and I maybe ought to make that one as it needs doing while Cordelia's not home.
Of course, what I really want to do is nap. I may just give up and do that.
I did a little bit of writing last night and realized why I haven't gotten much done recently. Cordelia's been glued to my side for considerable periods and turning up for that more or less at random during the time she's home. She reads whatever's showing on my laptop and rather disapproves of me writing fanfic because I'm old. She especially disapproves of me writing anything even vaguely sexual.
Scott and I drove into town this morning to return a book to Community. Cordelia claims she told me to take it back on Friday when I went in to withdraw her, but I don't remember that at all. At any rate, it took about ten minutes this morning, so it wasn't a big deal.
I need to talk to folks at Skyline about letting Cordelia sign herself in and out with me either calling or writing a note to authorize it. If she can do that, it would make appointments during school hours infinitely more possible from my side of things.
I discovered today that, while I can shut down the ringing of our landline phones, I can't shut down the ringing from the base unit/charger. I'm not sure what the point is of being able to mute ringing on the mobile bit if the base is just going to howl. The problem is that we have a phone in our bedroom, so Scott was awakened by a junk call around 10:00 this morning. We only have a landline at this point because it was cheaper to get cable and phone with the internet than to get the internet connection on its own. The 'landline' isn't exactly a landline, either, and stops working when we lose power, so it doesn't even give us that.
We've been around a while now, so as part of celebrating our 10th anniversary here are 25 things to know about the OTW! https://goo.gl/FuuMWS
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Abdul Walid learned everything he knew about PTSD – which was quite a lot – from taking care of Thomas Nightingale (who still insisted on saying ‘shell shock’ or ‘combat stress fatigue’ instead, but that was a battle for another day). Still, he had to admit that being sucked into a dream full of snow and blood and possibly-werewolves was a step right into the unknown.
Words: 3730, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 2 of A Gentleman's Agreement
- Fandoms: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
- Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
- Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
- Categories: M/M
- Characters: Abdul Haqq Walid, Thomas Nightingale
- Relationships: Abdul Haqq Walid/Thomas Nightingale
- Additional Tags: Ettersburg, Dreams and Nightmares, Werewolves, Gun Violence, PTSD, Caretaking