You know how I do.
12,143 / 50,000
(24.3%)
Well, I'm back to staying up till 4am and getting out of bed at noon. *Sigh*
I'm only a little bit behind my target goal, at the mo. Sunday I only churned out half of my DDWC, but since it's twice my MDWC, it'll be fine.
My family is still insane, Chris is still sleeping in Hunter's floor despite having his own be a few blocks away, and my wisdom teeth still hurt.
But I finished the RD of one of Baked's early short stories, the first (chronologically, anyway) in the arc. Which means it's that time again: Excerpt! 300 words, and Alan Rickman.
NOTE: They're at a fancy dress party being held at Wayne Manor. I figger the rest tells itself.
There was a boy sitting cross-legged under the table. He was wearing a suit, with his tie hanging loose and his jacket folded on the ground next to him. He had a book balanced on his knee, and a screwdriver in each hand. There was a penlight clenched between his teeth. On the floor in front of him was a pile of metal pieces. He looked up from his book and flashed the light directly in Lex’s eyes.
“Hey! Dude, cut that out.” The dark haired boy sucked the flashlight deeper into his mouth to hit the button with his tongue. Lex eyed him.
“I’m guessing you already know how seriously weird that is.” The other boy nodded. “Good. No need to go over it again, then.” He held out his hand. “Lex Luthor.” The other boy took his hand, and then looked from the hand clasped to Lex’s to the one full of tools. Lex grabbed the bulb of the flashlight and pulled it away from his dark headed companion’s mouth.
“Thanks. And I’m Bruce. Bruce Wayne.”
No one in the room felt anything change. There wasn’t a clap of thunder or a burst of lightning. Angels didn’t descend from the heavens; demons didn’t burst through the floor. There wasn’t a new star born overhead. North and South didn’t trade places, long didn’t become short, and black didn’t become white. There weren’t any dancing bears or ninjas bursting out of birthday cakes. The mouthpiece of God didn’t point them out. Hell, Alan Rickman didn’t even point them out. But all the same, the universe took a half turn to the left as those boys, on their knees under a table in the dark, shook hands.