meme!!
last seen with Irony_Rocks
Post a sentence/paragraph/snippet from every* wip you can find. No explanations allowed, just the excerpt.
Henry tried to speak, but it came out garbled because his lips and tongue couldn't make the same shapes as a human face could. He frowned and the next sound was distinctly a whine. He looked at her with pleading eyes, human and intelligent even if they were gold.
John Druitt grit his teeth as the needle slid into his arm. The drugs burned as they went in. The needle was removed and John swabbed his own arm with a splash of cheap vodka and fairly clean cloth. All the real medical supplies, such as they were, were in the civilian safe houses.
Sam picked up a zat and pressed it into Scully's hand. "The first shot stuns, the second shot kills, the third shot evaporates."
Eyes wide, Scully nodded and carefully pointed the weapon down and away. "I thought that was just a TV gimmick."
"That's a long story," Sam said over her shoulder. "I'll tell you when we get out of here."
Ashley cheered and ran around, her footsteps echoing off the bare walls and floor. Helen smiled and watched her race into the bathroom then into the closets and out again. She collided with Helen's side, wrapping her arms around her waist and looked up at her with a huge grin that was missing a tooth. Helen brushed her hair out of her face and smiled.
"Love you, mom."
"Love you too, Ashley," Helen murmured into the silence. She took a deep, shuddering breath and closed the lid of the box. She'd packed her daughter's clothing the day before, and she'd already had the workout equipment broken down and reassembled in the gym. The bathroom smelled like her still. Helen had gone in once in a fit of worried insomnia and had tidied it up for her, anticipating her safe return. Helen had packed that this morning.
Shrugging Ashley said, "It's not working right. It's slow and does that blue screen thing. The image flickers." Those were all complaints she'd had in the past, though not all at once. She opened the door and waved him in.
Henry groaned. "It's probably something with the damn drivers," he said, crossing her room to the machine, hibernating in the corner. "And...you're closing and locking the door."
Ashley grinned at him as he turned around. She took off her top.
"So, I'm here for...?"
"Tech support," she provided, smirking as the shoes came off next. She kicked away her pants and panties.
Will followed her line of sight and smirked. The group were steampunk costumers. There was a whole crew of air-ship pirates, a couple adventurers and some who didn't seem to fill any role but nevertheless wore a great deal of earth-toned fabrics and brass. "Not a fan?"
Helen gave him a mock dirty look. "Posers," she stated then elegantly moved off in another direction.
She was very aware that she was in a tiny, artificial oasis of life in a sea of nothing. She was a tiny spec between galaxies which were themselves small compared to the entirety of the universe. As small as she was, as small as she felt at the moment, her daughter was far smaller. She curled around her pillow further. Her daughter. The one she'd thought she'd never have, was quietly and unexpectedly, growing within her. She thought she could feel the press of the galactic void on the station, and felt very small.
"How's he handling it?" Jack asked.
"He's being Mark." She laughed once, a short, unhappy sound. "He and Dad are so much alike. It's why they didn't get along all the time." She sniffed and leaned against him. "They were alike," she belatedly amended. "You were on a call with Washington earlier," she said to clearly change the subject. "Everything okay?"
He was having the dream about chasing motorcycles again. Rather one in particular. It was a recurring dream, but he'd never told anyone because it was a little embarrassing. First, he was a werewolf so the dog jokes about chasing vehicles were low hanging fruit. Second, he was usually chasing Ashley on her bike.
Sometimes it was a an embarrassing experience; she laughed and rode he bike just out of his reach as he huffed and puffed down the street. He wasn't in bad shape but he didn't have endless endurance. Sometimes he was training and she was yelling at him to keep up. Occasionally they were running for their lives and he'd do something stupid and fall off only to watch her ride into the distance as whatever evil thing ran him down.
Jack woke as the morning sun invaded through a crack in their curtains. He glared at the clock over Sam's shoulder. He was up early but only by a few minutes. He carefully reached over and reset the alarm. Sam had fallen sleep quickly after they'd finished. Jack smirked into the twilight of their bedroom. For an old guy, he'd done a decent job of wearing her out. She'd uncurled from the ball she'd gone to sleep in and was resting peacefully, her face unmarred by worry lines or questions.
The bar was exactly as seedy as she'd remembered it being. It was a ramshackle place built on Freedonia. The island, and she supposed that generously it could be called that, floated on the sea in international waters and moved around at the whim of the proprietors. Currently it was closer to the equator - the doldrums were a highly profitable place to be.
Post a sentence/paragraph/snippet from every* wip you can find. No explanations allowed, just the excerpt.
Henry tried to speak, but it came out garbled because his lips and tongue couldn't make the same shapes as a human face could. He frowned and the next sound was distinctly a whine. He looked at her with pleading eyes, human and intelligent even if they were gold.
John Druitt grit his teeth as the needle slid into his arm. The drugs burned as they went in. The needle was removed and John swabbed his own arm with a splash of cheap vodka and fairly clean cloth. All the real medical supplies, such as they were, were in the civilian safe houses.
Sam picked up a zat and pressed it into Scully's hand. "The first shot stuns, the second shot kills, the third shot evaporates."
Eyes wide, Scully nodded and carefully pointed the weapon down and away. "I thought that was just a TV gimmick."
"That's a long story," Sam said over her shoulder. "I'll tell you when we get out of here."
Ashley cheered and ran around, her footsteps echoing off the bare walls and floor. Helen smiled and watched her race into the bathroom then into the closets and out again. She collided with Helen's side, wrapping her arms around her waist and looked up at her with a huge grin that was missing a tooth. Helen brushed her hair out of her face and smiled.
"Love you, mom."
"Love you too, Ashley," Helen murmured into the silence. She took a deep, shuddering breath and closed the lid of the box. She'd packed her daughter's clothing the day before, and she'd already had the workout equipment broken down and reassembled in the gym. The bathroom smelled like her still. Helen had gone in once in a fit of worried insomnia and had tidied it up for her, anticipating her safe return. Helen had packed that this morning.
Shrugging Ashley said, "It's not working right. It's slow and does that blue screen thing. The image flickers." Those were all complaints she'd had in the past, though not all at once. She opened the door and waved him in.
Henry groaned. "It's probably something with the damn drivers," he said, crossing her room to the machine, hibernating in the corner. "And...you're closing and locking the door."
Ashley grinned at him as he turned around. She took off her top.
"So, I'm here for...?"
"Tech support," she provided, smirking as the shoes came off next. She kicked away her pants and panties.
Will followed her line of sight and smirked. The group were steampunk costumers. There was a whole crew of air-ship pirates, a couple adventurers and some who didn't seem to fill any role but nevertheless wore a great deal of earth-toned fabrics and brass. "Not a fan?"
Helen gave him a mock dirty look. "Posers," she stated then elegantly moved off in another direction.
She was very aware that she was in a tiny, artificial oasis of life in a sea of nothing. She was a tiny spec between galaxies which were themselves small compared to the entirety of the universe. As small as she was, as small as she felt at the moment, her daughter was far smaller. She curled around her pillow further. Her daughter. The one she'd thought she'd never have, was quietly and unexpectedly, growing within her. She thought she could feel the press of the galactic void on the station, and felt very small.
"How's he handling it?" Jack asked.
"He's being Mark." She laughed once, a short, unhappy sound. "He and Dad are so much alike. It's why they didn't get along all the time." She sniffed and leaned against him. "They were alike," she belatedly amended. "You were on a call with Washington earlier," she said to clearly change the subject. "Everything okay?"
He was having the dream about chasing motorcycles again. Rather one in particular. It was a recurring dream, but he'd never told anyone because it was a little embarrassing. First, he was a werewolf so the dog jokes about chasing vehicles were low hanging fruit. Second, he was usually chasing Ashley on her bike.
Sometimes it was a an embarrassing experience; she laughed and rode he bike just out of his reach as he huffed and puffed down the street. He wasn't in bad shape but he didn't have endless endurance. Sometimes he was training and she was yelling at him to keep up. Occasionally they were running for their lives and he'd do something stupid and fall off only to watch her ride into the distance as whatever evil thing ran him down.
Jack woke as the morning sun invaded through a crack in their curtains. He glared at the clock over Sam's shoulder. He was up early but only by a few minutes. He carefully reached over and reset the alarm. Sam had fallen sleep quickly after they'd finished. Jack smirked into the twilight of their bedroom. For an old guy, he'd done a decent job of wearing her out. She'd uncurled from the ball she'd gone to sleep in and was resting peacefully, her face unmarred by worry lines or questions.
The bar was exactly as seedy as she'd remembered it being. It was a ramshackle place built on Freedonia. The island, and she supposed that generously it could be called that, floated on the sea in international waters and moved around at the whim of the proprietors. Currently it was closer to the equator - the doldrums were a highly profitable place to be.