Evil Author Meme

[menamebphil]

"Evil Author Meme", stolen from Invaderk, who stole it from kuriadalmatia, who stole it from dragonladyk.

Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Pick out the title that most intrigues you, or appeals to you, or whatever, and I'll post a snippet!

Christ, this is going to be embarrassing.

Comments

[menamebphil]

Oh lord that one.

I like fusions, basically. And I thought it would be neat to explore the idea of Jump City, Ember Island. Except I couldn't find a way to overcome the massive differences in setting- some people had names like Victor Stone, and some were called Hakoda, and I couldn't reconcile it.

Anyway. The most complete snippet.

There was a sudden knock at the door. Victor checked his clock.

Ten thirty-eight pm and twelve seconds.

Too early for Rae to get off her shift, too long past business hours for anyone looking for work done. It could, he conceded, be one of his non-work related friends, but he doubted it, seeing as it was pretty hard for purely hypothetical people to go around knocking on doors.

There was another knock.

Sighing, he lifted himself up off the settee. Well, if it was someone looking to rob the place, they were out of luck. Even the most unsavoury of individuals tended to keep their distance when encountering a man with armour-plated skin.

Grumbling under his breath, he walked heavily through the apartment to the door. Unfortunately, this took him about four strides. Living above his workplace was convenient, but occasionally incredibly depressing.

He opened the door.

“What.”

“Look buddy you've gotta help me.” Victor sighed. He should have guessed.

Sokka. The world's most eccentric private investigator.

It is said that you can tell a lot about a person by the way they dress, and Sokka's chosen uniform spoke volumes. He had actually found a blue trench-coat. With matching fedora. There was nothing inherently wrong with a little national pride, but Victor would have left it at a set of novelty cufflinks. Or a tie, at most.

But Sokka had heard of moderation, and long ago decided that he wanted nothing to do with it. The guy was aggressively eccentric, proud to a fault, and thought Occam's razor was beard control for monks. Added up, he should have been World's Deadest Private Investigator within about a week. But here he was, four years into his chosen profession, and still alive. Walking around in the fresh-ish (this was Jump, after all) air, with all limbs present and correct.

Okay, yes, the Bei Fong case had boosted his rep, and he did have a knack for getting jobs done, but one day the guy was going to get into more trouble than he could handle. He actually honestly carried around a damn boomerang. An actual boomerang, as in, a bit of curved metal. 'Bullets are expensive', was his excuse, the one time Victor had asked, 'plus they never see it coming'. Victor thought the exact same argument could hold true for carrying a vacuum cleaner into a fight, but left it at that.

“What, Sokka,” Victor said, with a heavy undercurrent of I Was Busy (watching romantic comedies).

“Okay, you know those adverts for Bumi's Aftershave (For REAL MEN)? Yeah, turns out the stuff works pretty much like it claims it does.”

Victor blinked for a second. “Are you telling me,” he asked, slowly “that women are spontaneously lining up to smell you?”

“No, not that advert.”

“You've been lassoed by a hot girl on a motorcycle?”

“Not that one either. I'm talking about the one where the hot alien girl literally falls out of the damn sky and starts making out with me. And then she starts screaming about how I've got to stay out of her way or she'll pulp my head and then there's these spotlights coming out of the sky and the girl just completely loses her mind and actually literally flies except it's like she's drunk or something and she ploughs right through a brick wall and Vic you've gotta help me.”

“...What.”

“Look. I'll boil it down for you. Me- attacked/groped by hot alien chick. Hot alien chick- super strong, kind of crazy, also I think she's being chased by other aliens. You- giant metal man with laser guns for arms. Okay, that's the basics. I. Need. Your. Help. I'm calling in my favour from that Amazing Mumbo incident. Also I am prepared to give you at least fifty dollars. And I'll buy you a beer some time.”

Victor considered it. “Why do you always offer to buy me a beer? You know I don't drink.”

Sokka grinned. “That's exactly why I do. So you're in?”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Sure, alright.”