WIP meme yoinked from kcscribbler
Post a sentence (or two or a paragraph) from as many of your WIPs as you want, with no explanation attached.
This should be interesting...
“Oh now this is a chair!” the man said as he flopped himself down into it. “Nice and comfy, though a bit worn down in places…” I watched in amusement as he fidgeted around until was seated diagonally; his head was against the left side of the chair back while his legs hung over the right arm. “Oh… this is how you sit in it?” I nodded. He snuggled in the chair. “I can see why… I could fall asleep.”
“You may want to do just that,” I suggested, turning to grab an afghan off the back of my couch. “You look like you could use a rest.” By the time I had turned back around, the man was fast asleep. I chuckled softly as I covered him with the afghan. He didn’t look to be in much pain, but did I dare leave him alone? What if something happened to him while I was at work? I soon went to my computer and logged into my work email; I had a few personal days saved up and the weather would be a reasonable excuse to take one. Thankfully, it was a Friday-one was all I’d need.
--
The change wasn't just in London; I had a few friends over the internet--Andrea in Boston, Sin in Japan, Marcus in Australia, Jamison in Mexico--who had confirmed the same phenomenon. Not the murders, just the decrease in daylight. None of them had a scientific reason why.
My reading was interrupted by a knock at the door, something that startled me as I wasn't expecting any visitors. The paranoid part of my personality feared that somehow the Ripper had followed me from the police station and was going to finish what he began with my cut cheek. Of course, it's not paranoia if someone's really out to get you. And that was a definite possibility; I had seen his face. I looked right into the eyes of the man who murdered my sister and his was a face I would never forget.
“Who is it?” I asked cautiously, looking for something I could use as a weapon.
“Yes, hello! I’m looking for Jacob McKay, is he in?” That, much to my relief, wasn’t the Ripper’s voice.
“Pinstripe suit man?”
“…yes, I guess you could call me that.”
--
“I’ve kept your lab as it was,” the Brig continued, opening the door. “I’ve already arranged for an assistant for you, she’ll bring you everything you need to update the place.”
“Does this one have a science background?” asked the Doctor. “Or have you found me another Jo?”
“If you’re speaking of Jo Grant,” a voice said. “I have a lot to thank her for. She left a manual for dealing with you.”
--
“I thought as much… so this is a holiday tradition where you’re from?”
“Mhm. In honor of the Lost Prince of Boeshane.”
“The Lost Prince?”
“In the first Dark Age,” Jack began, recounting the story he had heard so many times in his youth. “Boeshane was ruled by the Emperor Tynan, who came into power after murdering his brother, Lucian. He ruled with an iron fist, taxing the people to the point where they couldn’t buy food for their families. The one ray of hope for the people of Boeshane was Lucian’s only son, Conlan. He had been too young to ascend to the throne when his father died, which allowed Tynan to take over. The people knew that if Conlan was able to reach his eighteenth birthday, their suffering would be over.”
“How could they be sure of that?” Ianto asked. He felt like a child asking that, as if he was trying to trip up his mother, but he couldn’t help it. “How did they know Tynan wasn’t grooming him as a successor?”
“Because,” Jack replied with a grin, “a good majority of the Boeshane people survived because of Conlan. He would take them food, money if he could… more than that, he would talk to the people. Some times, talking did more good than anything else.” Ianto nodded his agreement. “Also, Conlan’s birthday was Christmas Eve; the people of Boeshane saw that as a sign of the peace that was to come.”
--
"We can dance if we want to. We can leave your friends behind. Because your friends don't dance, and if they don't dance then they're no friends of mine." Ianto had heard the song five times in the two hours, which lead him to believe that he was either underneath a bar with a limited music selection or someone was trying to drive him insane. He glanced at his watch; three o'clock. He had been in this room since at least one, when he awoke, but had no idea how long he had been unconscious. Was it three am or pm? Was it even the same day? Was Seren alright? The last question plagued him more than the ones before. He didn't care what happened to him, he just wanted to know that she was alright.
--
“Darien, I know we’ve known each other for a very long time, but answer me this: Have you always been this creepy?”
“It was either him or us, Morgaine, you know that.”
“Well, yes, but since when does “him or us” involve the removal of someone’s eyes with chopsticks?”
“Oh shut up, you thought that was cool.”
--
I think the one of the best days of a private investigator’s life is when they open up their own office.
--
To: montanainthemorning@wdot1053.com
From: LyrictheDJ@wkpq105.com
Subject: Small World
Dear Mr. Montana;
My name is Lyric Pierce and I have an interesting story to tell you. I’m the news director/morning show sidekick at a radio station in Hornell, New York. This morning, around 8:10, my station started receiving phone calls from people asking if they had won Ocean Jam tickets. I informed the callers that we didn’t have Ocean Jam tickets and frankly I’d never heard of it, being that we’re at least six hours from the nearest ocean. They insisted that they’d heard the information on 105.3, which is my station’s frequency. However, they said that Montana in the Morning was giving away the tickets, while our morning jock goes by the name “The Outlaw”. As far as I know, there’s never been a Montana at the station. I ended up Googling “Montana in the Morning 105.3” and located your station- the only 105.3 advertising a giveaway for Ocean Jam tickets. Imagine my surprise when your station’s homepage stated that you were in San Francisco, California. Ours states where we are as well, which is why I find this story amusing- you’d think they’d know that they weren’t listening to us, when we’re on the other side of the country. We don’t even have our station streamed online yet. Anyway, I thought I’d tell you about it, since it’s partially your fault we got that calls.
Sincerely yours,
Lyric Pierce
News Director WKPQ
Hornell, NY
P.S.: What the devil is Ocean Jam anyway?
Wow. I have a lot of WIPs...
This should be interesting...
“Oh now this is a chair!” the man said as he flopped himself down into it. “Nice and comfy, though a bit worn down in places…” I watched in amusement as he fidgeted around until was seated diagonally; his head was against the left side of the chair back while his legs hung over the right arm. “Oh… this is how you sit in it?” I nodded. He snuggled in the chair. “I can see why… I could fall asleep.”
“You may want to do just that,” I suggested, turning to grab an afghan off the back of my couch. “You look like you could use a rest.” By the time I had turned back around, the man was fast asleep. I chuckled softly as I covered him with the afghan. He didn’t look to be in much pain, but did I dare leave him alone? What if something happened to him while I was at work? I soon went to my computer and logged into my work email; I had a few personal days saved up and the weather would be a reasonable excuse to take one. Thankfully, it was a Friday-one was all I’d need.
--
The change wasn't just in London; I had a few friends over the internet--Andrea in Boston, Sin in Japan, Marcus in Australia, Jamison in Mexico--who had confirmed the same phenomenon. Not the murders, just the decrease in daylight. None of them had a scientific reason why.
My reading was interrupted by a knock at the door, something that startled me as I wasn't expecting any visitors. The paranoid part of my personality feared that somehow the Ripper had followed me from the police station and was going to finish what he began with my cut cheek. Of course, it's not paranoia if someone's really out to get you. And that was a definite possibility; I had seen his face. I looked right into the eyes of the man who murdered my sister and his was a face I would never forget.
“Who is it?” I asked cautiously, looking for something I could use as a weapon.
“Yes, hello! I’m looking for Jacob McKay, is he in?” That, much to my relief, wasn’t the Ripper’s voice.
“Pinstripe suit man?”
“…yes, I guess you could call me that.”
--
“I’ve kept your lab as it was,” the Brig continued, opening the door. “I’ve already arranged for an assistant for you, she’ll bring you everything you need to update the place.”
“Does this one have a science background?” asked the Doctor. “Or have you found me another Jo?”
“If you’re speaking of Jo Grant,” a voice said. “I have a lot to thank her for. She left a manual for dealing with you.”
--
“I thought as much… so this is a holiday tradition where you’re from?”
“Mhm. In honor of the Lost Prince of Boeshane.”
“The Lost Prince?”
“In the first Dark Age,” Jack began, recounting the story he had heard so many times in his youth. “Boeshane was ruled by the Emperor Tynan, who came into power after murdering his brother, Lucian. He ruled with an iron fist, taxing the people to the point where they couldn’t buy food for their families. The one ray of hope for the people of Boeshane was Lucian’s only son, Conlan. He had been too young to ascend to the throne when his father died, which allowed Tynan to take over. The people knew that if Conlan was able to reach his eighteenth birthday, their suffering would be over.”
“How could they be sure of that?” Ianto asked. He felt like a child asking that, as if he was trying to trip up his mother, but he couldn’t help it. “How did they know Tynan wasn’t grooming him as a successor?”
“Because,” Jack replied with a grin, “a good majority of the Boeshane people survived because of Conlan. He would take them food, money if he could… more than that, he would talk to the people. Some times, talking did more good than anything else.” Ianto nodded his agreement. “Also, Conlan’s birthday was Christmas Eve; the people of Boeshane saw that as a sign of the peace that was to come.”
--
"We can dance if we want to. We can leave your friends behind. Because your friends don't dance, and if they don't dance then they're no friends of mine." Ianto had heard the song five times in the two hours, which lead him to believe that he was either underneath a bar with a limited music selection or someone was trying to drive him insane. He glanced at his watch; three o'clock. He had been in this room since at least one, when he awoke, but had no idea how long he had been unconscious. Was it three am or pm? Was it even the same day? Was Seren alright? The last question plagued him more than the ones before. He didn't care what happened to him, he just wanted to know that she was alright.
--
“Darien, I know we’ve known each other for a very long time, but answer me this: Have you always been this creepy?”
“It was either him or us, Morgaine, you know that.”
“Well, yes, but since when does “him or us” involve the removal of someone’s eyes with chopsticks?”
“Oh shut up, you thought that was cool.”
--
I think the one of the best days of a private investigator’s life is when they open up their own office.
--
To: montanainthemorning@wdot1053.com
From: LyrictheDJ@wkpq105.com
Subject: Small World
Dear Mr. Montana;
My name is Lyric Pierce and I have an interesting story to tell you. I’m the news director/morning show sidekick at a radio station in Hornell, New York. This morning, around 8:10, my station started receiving phone calls from people asking if they had won Ocean Jam tickets. I informed the callers that we didn’t have Ocean Jam tickets and frankly I’d never heard of it, being that we’re at least six hours from the nearest ocean. They insisted that they’d heard the information on 105.3, which is my station’s frequency. However, they said that Montana in the Morning was giving away the tickets, while our morning jock goes by the name “The Outlaw”. As far as I know, there’s never been a Montana at the station. I ended up Googling “Montana in the Morning 105.3” and located your station- the only 105.3 advertising a giveaway for Ocean Jam tickets. Imagine my surprise when your station’s homepage stated that you were in San Francisco, California. Ours states where we are as well, which is why I find this story amusing- you’d think they’d know that they weren’t listening to us, when we’re on the other side of the country. We don’t even have our station streamed online yet. Anyway, I thought I’d tell you about it, since it’s partially your fault we got that calls.
Sincerely yours,
Lyric Pierce
News Director WKPQ
Hornell, NY
P.S.: What the devil is Ocean Jam anyway?
Wow. I have a lot of WIPs...