WIP Meme
Gacked from sdwolfpup: When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
Highlander bits and pieces
Midnight on the Firing Line, third in "The Price of Interference" trilogy:
Methos sang to himself, eyes closed. The words were in a language that sounded like nothing I’d ever heard before. His voice echoed through the small room, face serene. For a moment it reminded me of Darius. When the song came to an end, I whispered, “Was that a prayer?”
His eyes opened slowly and he looked tired, right to the bone. “I long ago out-grew the fantasy that I could compel the gods, Joe. I was just trying to help you get to sleep. Close your eyes and rest.”
Jean-Pierre story, a side-step from the "Price of Interference" series:
On my knees in the dirt, I felt Carlo's sword whisper to a stop against the back of my neck. "It all starts with the killing blow," he gloated. "When you take an enemy's Quickening, you steal his power. No act of passion can compare. Once you've experienced it, then you will be a man."
Richie/OFC story
“You do NOT wanna go anywhere near New York. It’s like ... you know them nature shows on TV, with the wild animals?” Kimi's voice takes on a deep, mocking tone. “The gazelle must have water to live, and so it approaches the watering hole.” Her left hand shows a little gazelle moving hesitantly towards the imaginary water. “Then that gazelle looks around, all scared, but it doesn’t see anything, right? So it bends its little head down to take a drink…” One finger of Kimi’s left hand bends down towards the surface of the water. “Then BAM, a crocodile comes up outtta the water to grab it!” Kimi’s right hand grabs onto her left and starts pulling. “Then BOOM, outta nowhere, a lion jumps on the gazelle’s back!” Now Kimi’s left hand shows a pouncing lion. The two hands wrestle for a moment, then she throws them into the air. “Crocodile vs. lion, who the fuck knows who’s gonna win that one? But it sure as shit ain’t gonna be the gazelle. That’s what New York is like. Had to shoot three assholes in two days, then I got the fuck out. I ain’t goin within a hundred miles of that place.”
Anne POV piece:
Immortals had no mothers, no fathers, couldn't reproduce. Beautiful, intelligent, athletic Duncan MacLeod was a genetic dead end. Anne wasn't sure if she was responding as a scientist or as a mother-to-be, but it repulsed her.
Methos POV horror story:
Strange pains, differences so minor that no one else would notice. But to someone who had lived with their body unchanged for millenia, tiny chances in balance, suddenly cutting yourself shaving over a millimeter difference in a cheekbone...
Sydney Opera House story:
Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, Methos mused as he circled back to the Opera House. Here in Sydney. Now, just when the operation had reached its crisis point.
Methos never had believed in coincidences. He sorted through the possibilities in his mind. One, MacLeod's arrival was a result of one of those uncanny bursts of intuition he occasionally displayed. Two, this was the jest of some malicious god. Three, enemy action.
due South bits and pieces
Fraser and Gerome Vodoun piece:
"Well, as much as I appreciate the offer, I'm not convinced of a wanga's efficacy, given that neither Ray nor I are Vodouisants. And … what's more, I am uncomfortable with the thought of compelling Ray's affections in such a manner. Free will is…"
Gerome interrupted with a snort. "Free will is something dreamt up by the rich and powerful. Our people do what we must to survive."
I could hear the echo of the Tonton Macoute, sweatshops, and starving children in his voice. It called to my own memories of a land so glorious and harsh that a moment's inattention could kill. Where wants were nothing, but needs were everything. And I needed Ray. Of that there was no doubt.
Fraser POV case EPIC I am totally stuck on, related to Suspicion is the Silent Killer:
I turned away from his furious face to reach for the door handle. “I believe I see your point, Detective, and I thank you kindly for your con...”
The click of the car’s child safety locks reached me just as Ray interrupted. “No. No, I don’t think you see my point at all, Fraser.”
I swung around in my seat, jaw clenched. Ray had no right to lock me in like some recalcitrant child. He had rudely interrupted me, not once, but twice. At the sight of my face, Ray’s eyes narrowed briefly in satisfaction. Ray had undoubtedly sensed that I was withholding information from him. He excelled at making suspects angry and off-balance, to the point where they hurled their secrets at him like weapons. But these secrets were not mine to give.
I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming breath. When I opened them, Ray had shrunk in on himself. “Fraser … look.” He spoke in a hushed, harsh voice. “You know I’m not Ray Vecchio. I know I’m not Ray Vecchio. But I’m your partner, right?” I nodded mutely at the entreaty in his voice.
Ray scanned the surroundings and leaned closer. We were two men alone in a bright-lit car, telling secrets on a deserted midnight street. “You can’t cut me out of a case, not like this. Not 'cause I’m not him. You gotta let me back you up,” he pleaded.
I nearly told him everything in that moment. I reminded myself that Ray Kowalski was an experienced undercover operative and interrogator. He was surely capable of using emotion to manipulate me. However, I recognized the self-doubt that Ray had revealed to me in the crypt, when speaking of a beloved wife who had come to despise him. I simply could not leave Ray thinking that I would put myself in harm’s way because I found him an unworthy partner.
Highlander bits and pieces
Midnight on the Firing Line, third in "The Price of Interference" trilogy:
Methos sang to himself, eyes closed. The words were in a language that sounded like nothing I’d ever heard before. His voice echoed through the small room, face serene. For a moment it reminded me of Darius. When the song came to an end, I whispered, “Was that a prayer?”
His eyes opened slowly and he looked tired, right to the bone. “I long ago out-grew the fantasy that I could compel the gods, Joe. I was just trying to help you get to sleep. Close your eyes and rest.”
Jean-Pierre story, a side-step from the "Price of Interference" series:
On my knees in the dirt, I felt Carlo's sword whisper to a stop against the back of my neck. "It all starts with the killing blow," he gloated. "When you take an enemy's Quickening, you steal his power. No act of passion can compare. Once you've experienced it, then you will be a man."
Richie/OFC story
“You do NOT wanna go anywhere near New York. It’s like ... you know them nature shows on TV, with the wild animals?” Kimi's voice takes on a deep, mocking tone. “The gazelle must have water to live, and so it approaches the watering hole.” Her left hand shows a little gazelle moving hesitantly towards the imaginary water. “Then that gazelle looks around, all scared, but it doesn’t see anything, right? So it bends its little head down to take a drink…” One finger of Kimi’s left hand bends down towards the surface of the water. “Then BAM, a crocodile comes up outtta the water to grab it!” Kimi’s right hand grabs onto her left and starts pulling. “Then BOOM, outta nowhere, a lion jumps on the gazelle’s back!” Now Kimi’s left hand shows a pouncing lion. The two hands wrestle for a moment, then she throws them into the air. “Crocodile vs. lion, who the fuck knows who’s gonna win that one? But it sure as shit ain’t gonna be the gazelle. That’s what New York is like. Had to shoot three assholes in two days, then I got the fuck out. I ain’t goin within a hundred miles of that place.”
Anne POV piece:
Immortals had no mothers, no fathers, couldn't reproduce. Beautiful, intelligent, athletic Duncan MacLeod was a genetic dead end. Anne wasn't sure if she was responding as a scientist or as a mother-to-be, but it repulsed her.
Methos POV horror story:
Strange pains, differences so minor that no one else would notice. But to someone who had lived with their body unchanged for millenia, tiny chances in balance, suddenly cutting yourself shaving over a millimeter difference in a cheekbone...
Sydney Opera House story:
Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, Methos mused as he circled back to the Opera House. Here in Sydney. Now, just when the operation had reached its crisis point.
Methos never had believed in coincidences. He sorted through the possibilities in his mind. One, MacLeod's arrival was a result of one of those uncanny bursts of intuition he occasionally displayed. Two, this was the jest of some malicious god. Three, enemy action.
due South bits and pieces
Fraser and Gerome Vodoun piece:
"Well, as much as I appreciate the offer, I'm not convinced of a wanga's efficacy, given that neither Ray nor I are Vodouisants. And … what's more, I am uncomfortable with the thought of compelling Ray's affections in such a manner. Free will is…"
Gerome interrupted with a snort. "Free will is something dreamt up by the rich and powerful. Our people do what we must to survive."
I could hear the echo of the Tonton Macoute, sweatshops, and starving children in his voice. It called to my own memories of a land so glorious and harsh that a moment's inattention could kill. Where wants were nothing, but needs were everything. And I needed Ray. Of that there was no doubt.
Fraser POV case EPIC I am totally stuck on, related to Suspicion is the Silent Killer:
I turned away from his furious face to reach for the door handle. “I believe I see your point, Detective, and I thank you kindly for your con...”
The click of the car’s child safety locks reached me just as Ray interrupted. “No. No, I don’t think you see my point at all, Fraser.”
I swung around in my seat, jaw clenched. Ray had no right to lock me in like some recalcitrant child. He had rudely interrupted me, not once, but twice. At the sight of my face, Ray’s eyes narrowed briefly in satisfaction. Ray had undoubtedly sensed that I was withholding information from him. He excelled at making suspects angry and off-balance, to the point where they hurled their secrets at him like weapons. But these secrets were not mine to give.
I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming breath. When I opened them, Ray had shrunk in on himself. “Fraser … look.” He spoke in a hushed, harsh voice. “You know I’m not Ray Vecchio. I know I’m not Ray Vecchio. But I’m your partner, right?” I nodded mutely at the entreaty in his voice.
Ray scanned the surroundings and leaned closer. We were two men alone in a bright-lit car, telling secrets on a deserted midnight street. “You can’t cut me out of a case, not like this. Not 'cause I’m not him. You gotta let me back you up,” he pleaded.
I nearly told him everything in that moment. I reminded myself that Ray Kowalski was an experienced undercover operative and interrogator. He was surely capable of using emotion to manipulate me. However, I recognized the self-doubt that Ray had revealed to me in the crypt, when speaking of a beloved wife who had come to despise him. I simply could not leave Ray thinking that I would put myself in harm’s way because I found him an unworthy partner.