(no subject)
Here are some more meme answers. 
hiyacynth asked about A Family Business and how I was able to capture a sister-sister relationship since I don't have a sister of my own. Three things and a timestamp under the cut.
Tree branches creaked over Gillian’s head. She stepped carefully through the undergrowth. She didn’t want to step on a twig and rouse the monster from its infernal sleep.
Suddenly, and without any encouragement, an image flashed through her brain of a big bear painted in splotches of brown, lying in a den covered in papier-mache flames, while little stick figure representations of her and her sister snuck up on it from the trees. Gillian leaned against a tree and tried to stifle her amusement before it flowed over into outright laughter. Her brain really was its own worst enemy.
A sister-sized hand appeared from behind a neighboring tree and whapped Gillian upside the head. Gillian grunted and narrowed her eyes, sending a glare to where she thought Angie must be. It was really frigging annoying that, apparently, when you sold yourself to some big, nasty tree in order to save your idiot of an older sister, you got magical tree powers like some kind of wood elf. Now, whenever they went out into the woods or, you know, through the park, Gillian was never sure if Angie was going to disappear or start singing to a tree or some weirdo “I am a pretty, pretty princess who communes with the animals’ shit.
It’s not that Gillian isn’t grateful and all, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t notice when her baby sister was being weird. That’s what being the oldest was all about, after all.
Angie materialized to Gillian’s right, shotgun cradled in her arms. She rolled her eyes at the overdramatic way Gillian rubbed the sore spot on the back of her head. ‘Big baby,’ Angie mouthed. Her mouth thinned and she nodded her head in the direction of the den before she faded back into the trees.
Gillian sighed and moved forward, her own shotgun loose and ready in her hands. She hated when her sister was right.
She crept forward, dodging her way around saplings and hidden roots, until she neared the base of a steep hill. Holes dotted the dark ground, leaves and twigs swept aside by the diggers’ industrious work. A skeleton lay at the colony’s perimeter, bones bare and denuded of flesh.
A moment passed and then another. Gillian could hear her own breaths loud in her ears. She wondered if she was too loud, if she was scaring the creatures away. Maybe it would work better if she held her breath.
There was rustling in the undergrowth and a brown rabbit hopped into view, followed by another. Gillian raised the rifle to her shoulder in one silent move. She sighted along the barrel, her finger tightened on the trigger, she had the lead rabbit dead to rights, when Angie appeared out of the forest and stepped between them.
“How adorable,” Angie cooed and leaned down, her arm outstretched. Gillian huffed out a breath and moved to her right. Now was not the time for Angie to start playing Disney Princess.
“It’s okay, come on little guy.” Angie made kissy noises at the rabbit and rubbed her fingers against her thumb, beckoning it closer.
The lead rabbit hopped forward while the other rabbit stared at Angie with its beady little eyes. With a grimace it bared long, pointed teeth that seemed too big to fit in its tiny bunny mouth and sprang. Angie, finally noticing the danger, gave a little scream and jumped backwards. She swung the gun like a club and knocked the killer rabbit into a tree with a wet, meaty thump. The other rabbit leaped at her back, ears back and teeth extended. Before it could latch onto Angie’s back a shot rang across the glade and it fell to the ground, a smoking hole drilled through its little brain.
Angie’s chest heaved with panicked breaths. “Oh my god,” she panted.
“I told you they were dangerous,” Gillian stated, stepping out from behind the tree. She leaned her gun against a good-sized maple and slung her bag around. “Keep an eye out while I set out the poison. We’ll come back tomorrow and take care of the mess.”
“Killer rabbits,” Angie muttered. “This job is so weird.
1) I had a lot of inspiration when it came to the sister-sister relationship dynamic. True, I don’t have any sisters myself, but I know a lot of people who have them. I spent a lot of time observing baylorsr and dodger_sister comparing their interactions to ones I had seen between my mom and her sister and the sisters I was friends with in high school. There’s an interesting overlap with the brother-brother relationship dynamic. Sisters fight and joke and compete with each other in much the same way that brothers do. A sister (or brother) will always have your back even while telling you exactly what you did wrong.
2) The cabin that Gillian lives in belongs to her Uncle Dave’s family. She went there after she graduated from high school and she only meant to stay for the summer. But when autumn rolled around she couldn’t make herself actually pick up and start college like she was supposed to. She ended up just staying there. She always meant to find her own place and never got around to doing it.
3) The high school that everyone attends in the flashback is the same one I graduated from. I had a lot of fun throwing in things from my home town. I especially loved using the state library. When I was a kid the state of Michigan built a huge new library/historical museum complex and it was one of mine and my brothers’ favorite places to visit. In fact, my youngest brother pushed me off of a stair landing and broke my arm at that very site (in his defense, I was trying to jump off of it. He was just helping me along).
comments at http://liptonrm.dreamwidth.org/34433.html.
hiyacynth asked about A Family Business and how I was able to capture a sister-sister relationship since I don't have a sister of my own. Three things and a timestamp under the cut.
Tree branches creaked over Gillian’s head. She stepped carefully through the undergrowth. She didn’t want to step on a twig and rouse the monster from its infernal sleep.
Suddenly, and without any encouragement, an image flashed through her brain of a big bear painted in splotches of brown, lying in a den covered in papier-mache flames, while little stick figure representations of her and her sister snuck up on it from the trees. Gillian leaned against a tree and tried to stifle her amusement before it flowed over into outright laughter. Her brain really was its own worst enemy.
A sister-sized hand appeared from behind a neighboring tree and whapped Gillian upside the head. Gillian grunted and narrowed her eyes, sending a glare to where she thought Angie must be. It was really frigging annoying that, apparently, when you sold yourself to some big, nasty tree in order to save your idiot of an older sister, you got magical tree powers like some kind of wood elf. Now, whenever they went out into the woods or, you know, through the park, Gillian was never sure if Angie was going to disappear or start singing to a tree or some weirdo “I am a pretty, pretty princess who communes with the animals’ shit.
It’s not that Gillian isn’t grateful and all, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t notice when her baby sister was being weird. That’s what being the oldest was all about, after all.
Angie materialized to Gillian’s right, shotgun cradled in her arms. She rolled her eyes at the overdramatic way Gillian rubbed the sore spot on the back of her head. ‘Big baby,’ Angie mouthed. Her mouth thinned and she nodded her head in the direction of the den before she faded back into the trees.
Gillian sighed and moved forward, her own shotgun loose and ready in her hands. She hated when her sister was right.
She crept forward, dodging her way around saplings and hidden roots, until she neared the base of a steep hill. Holes dotted the dark ground, leaves and twigs swept aside by the diggers’ industrious work. A skeleton lay at the colony’s perimeter, bones bare and denuded of flesh.
A moment passed and then another. Gillian could hear her own breaths loud in her ears. She wondered if she was too loud, if she was scaring the creatures away. Maybe it would work better if she held her breath.
There was rustling in the undergrowth and a brown rabbit hopped into view, followed by another. Gillian raised the rifle to her shoulder in one silent move. She sighted along the barrel, her finger tightened on the trigger, she had the lead rabbit dead to rights, when Angie appeared out of the forest and stepped between them.
“How adorable,” Angie cooed and leaned down, her arm outstretched. Gillian huffed out a breath and moved to her right. Now was not the time for Angie to start playing Disney Princess.
“It’s okay, come on little guy.” Angie made kissy noises at the rabbit and rubbed her fingers against her thumb, beckoning it closer.
The lead rabbit hopped forward while the other rabbit stared at Angie with its beady little eyes. With a grimace it bared long, pointed teeth that seemed too big to fit in its tiny bunny mouth and sprang. Angie, finally noticing the danger, gave a little scream and jumped backwards. She swung the gun like a club and knocked the killer rabbit into a tree with a wet, meaty thump. The other rabbit leaped at her back, ears back and teeth extended. Before it could latch onto Angie’s back a shot rang across the glade and it fell to the ground, a smoking hole drilled through its little brain.
Angie’s chest heaved with panicked breaths. “Oh my god,” she panted.
“I told you they were dangerous,” Gillian stated, stepping out from behind the tree. She leaned her gun against a good-sized maple and slung her bag around. “Keep an eye out while I set out the poison. We’ll come back tomorrow and take care of the mess.”
“Killer rabbits,” Angie muttered. “This job is so weird.
1) I had a lot of inspiration when it came to the sister-sister relationship dynamic. True, I don’t have any sisters myself, but I know a lot of people who have them. I spent a lot of time observing baylorsr and dodger_sister comparing their interactions to ones I had seen between my mom and her sister and the sisters I was friends with in high school. There’s an interesting overlap with the brother-brother relationship dynamic. Sisters fight and joke and compete with each other in much the same way that brothers do. A sister (or brother) will always have your back even while telling you exactly what you did wrong.
2) The cabin that Gillian lives in belongs to her Uncle Dave’s family. She went there after she graduated from high school and she only meant to stay for the summer. But when autumn rolled around she couldn’t make herself actually pick up and start college like she was supposed to. She ended up just staying there. She always meant to find her own place and never got around to doing it.
3) The high school that everyone attends in the flashback is the same one I graduated from. I had a lot of fun throwing in things from my home town. I especially loved using the state library. When I was a kid the state of Michigan built a huge new library/historical museum complex and it was one of mine and my brothers’ favorite places to visit. In fact, my youngest brother pushed me off of a stair landing and broke my arm at that very site (in his defense, I was trying to jump off of it. He was just helping me along).
comments at http://liptonrm.dreamwidth.org/34433.html.