Ficlet thingys...
So, I may have mentionned before that my computer at work is not connected to the internet. I am sure there should be some international law to forbid this practice, but there you are.
So, to stave off shear boredom I sometimes try to write a bit of fanfic of my own. They don't really seems to be going anywhere and it is frustrating! I have decided to just post them here, and try to move on to something else, so I give you fic bits!
The first is a Magnificent 7 ATF AU with a Vin/Ezra pairing . This was an attempt at a dialogue fic. It was trying to be a sequel to my one and only M7 fic 'Circular Arguments' but doesn't actually have any plot. I should also mention that it was written BEFORE this winter, and the copious snow in Colorado! 220 words.
"Ez?"
"Hmm?" came the reply from under the hood.
"There're no chains in here."
"Pardon?"
"No chains."
"Chains?"
"You know, chains. You use them for traction in the snow?"
"I know what chains are Vin, I just don't understand why you are asking about them at this particular moment."
"Well, they're not in the trunk."
"I am aware of that. Why would they be?"
"Well, where are they then?"
"I don't own any. Why should I?" Ezra had come out from under the hood of the car and joined Vin at the trunk of the Jag.
"Well, you live in Colorado now." The logic seemed very clear to Vin.
"And…?" The logic was obviouly not clear to Ezra.
"Well, how can you drive in Colorado if you don't have chains? You don't even have 4-wheel drive!"
"I drive very well in Colorado. I fail to see what the problem is. While the municipality does not always meet my standards for city maintenance, they are quite efficient at snow removal."
"How do you get back and forth to Chris' ranch in the snow then?"
"It doesn't snow that often, and when it does, that is what co-workers with 4-wheel drive vehicules are for." The impish grin that this was said with went straight to Vin's heart. God he loved that grin.
The second is a side story to my pirate novel fixation. When I gushed to the author about how much I loved the first person narration, her reply was :
"Thank you. My previous novels are third person, and I just didn’t ever feel like I could get deeply enough into one character with it. I really prefer reading first myself. Of course, now I get the occasional complaint from people who want to know what went on with other characters off of Will’s “stage” - but I figure that’s what fanfic is for…."
I took this as permission, so I give you a 'Bretheren, Raised by Wolves Volume 1' by W. A. Hoffman snippet Shift to 1st person from Gaston POV. 778 words. This is very early in Will's career as a buccaneer, and he is suffering from dysentry.
I was concerned. Will and I were both soaked to the skin, and he seemed distracted. Instead of watching the wolves as he usually did as we waited to bed down, he was preoccupied, and seemed to be seeing something only he could see. It did not appear to be a pleasant vision. Not to mention that being wet was not what I would have preferred for him, as he was still not well. I had hoped that his illness would pass, but while he hadn't seemed to get worse, he wasn't getting better either. I knew that he was often slightly feverish, though he didn't complain. His skin was chilled where he pressed against me.
My concern grew as he suddently started shivering violently, and spiked when he didn't respond when I called his name or shook him. Striker joined me as I scrambled to lay him down.
"What's wrong? Pete's gone to get Cleghorn."
"He is freezing, we need to get him warm!" He helped me strip Will of his weapons and get him lying down between us. As I pressed against his back, I could feel his heart beating furiously and he was very tense despite the shivering. I remembered his reaction to Pete our first night on the ship and how he couldn't bear to have weight on his back. I regretted that I was the cause of his panic but it was necessary. I murmered in his ear, trying to tell him who I was, and that all was well, but he didn't seem to understand. I could hear him muttering under his breath, but could make no sense of it.
Pete arrived with Cleghorn and Bradley in tow. I glared at Cleghorn and tried to ignore him. I didn't trust him and wanted him nowhere near my matelot. I had never had a matelot before; never even wanted one, but in a very short time Will had become extremely important to me and I would do right by him. When Cleghorn started explaining to the others that this was inevitable and Will needed bleeding, I lost my temper.
"No." They ignored me, and I repeated, as loud as I could "NO! You will not bleed him."
"It's overdue. If he'd let me treat him when he first came aboard, we could have avoided this." Cleghorn was trying to sound reasonable, but I didn't care. No one was bleeding my matelot. Ever.
"If he had followed your advice, he would be dead. He is my matelot. I will not allow it." I was torn between continuing to hold Will and placing myself bodily between him and those wishing him harm.
We were drawing attention as well, and others were gathering near our alcove. Will was unaware, but I was loath to leave him, yet the threat was growing and I didn't feel comfortable lying down with all them hemming us in.
Bradley took his turn at trying to be reasonable. "Cleghorn is a fine surgeon, he only wants what's best for Will. You want what's best for him, don't you?"
"You will not bleed him. He is my matelot. It is MY decision." I tried to judge if all were against me. I would fight them all if I had to, but I didn't want to let go of Will. I tried very hard to control my temper for Will's sake. If I sucombed to madness now, there would be no one to protect him from Cleghorn.
"He's right, it's his decision." I should have had more faith in Striker, but I was not used to others
taking my side. I tried to convey my gratitude as I gazed at him over Will's shoulder. He just grinned back at me. "We should get him into the cabin. We can get him dry and warm more quickly there."
I nodded my agreement, and between us we got Will up and moving towards the cabin. In our wake, I heard the others arguing. I was surprised how many supported my decision. Pete was the loudest, but Liam and Otter and strangely, Michaels and Seigfried were all arguing with Cleghorn and Bradley.
Much to my annoyance Cleghorn followed us into the cabin. Once Will was settled, I turned on him and threatened to throw his carcass to the pigs in the hold if he touched my matelot. Luckily for him, Striker pushed him out of the cabin and left me alone with my matelot. I stripped him of his wet clothes and dried him with a blanket I found amoung all the gear that had been thrown in the cabin to protect it from the rain.
Any comments or opinions would be welcome and appreciated!