WiP meme
I've been trying to think of something to post lately, so here's a meme from the lovely kalquessa to get me jump-started:
When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
I literally started this fanfic this morning, from a wish that Fawkes had not disappeared entirely. Then I thought, wouldn't it be neat if he visited Snape after the events of HBP? Unlikely, I know, but interesting all the same. I have no idea if I'll ever finish it.
"Sir, you're bleeding," Draco said in a shaking voice. Snape looked down with surprise at his arm, noticing for the first time the large gash that had ripped through his sleeve and and skin. He remembered then, the hippogriff that had come to Potter's aid, who had reared up, blocking Lily's eyes from his view and scratching him deeply. Pain started throbbing the length of his arm as adreneline faded and he absently wrapped his tattered sleeve around it, wondering why he simply did not fix it with a wave of his wand.
This next is an original fantasy, which I think will be a conglomeration of bits and pieces of unfinished fantasy stories I had laying around, but I haven't worked on it much because of editing 'Fairborn' and it's more challenging than I thought. The main character is nearly blind; all that she can see is vague gray shapes in good light and I constantly had to backspace on describing color and other things that only a person with sight would see.
Tatyana lay still as she listened for the nearly imperceptible sound that had awakened her. It couldn't be morning yet; the duyma was silent--or nearly silent. There. She heard it again, a creak in one of the floorboards outside her room. Then there was absolute silence again. Clutching a shawl around her nightclothes, she stepped over the sleeping Nulina and opened the door a crack. A hiss of voices, whispering in a language Tatyana didn't know was growing louder, and she heard a shuffling of feet trying to walk quietly. She shut the door, heart pounding, hoping that she hadn't been seen. Eyes; she needed to see. Padding back across the floor, she felt her way to Nulina's face and covered her mouth with one hand.
"Nulina, don't speak. It's me," she breathed into the other girl's ear. "There's someone outside. Strangers. I need you to look at them. Just peek out the door."
Nulina didn’t move. Tatyana shook her shoulder harder, but her future sister-in-law didn’t stir. A horrible thought presented itself, and she fumbled at the high neck of Nulina’s nightgown and thrust her fingers into the soft flesh at the hollow of her jaw. Yes, her heart was still beating. But why was she still asleep?
For a few quiet minutes, fear paralyzed Tatyana, and she sat huddled by Nulina’s sleeping form, wondering what she should do.
An old story, but one I think still has promise. It's set in Regency England and meant to be a murder mystery, though I haven't gotten much further than the discovery of the body (*cue omnious music*). The characters are good, but I think I got bogged down with trying to imitate Jane Austen, which is hard and I tend to overdo it. Lord Oliver Hazard gestured toward the books cradled in my arms. “What were you reading, if I may ask?”
I showed him the titles and was not disappointed when he let out a short bark of laughter.
“Wollstonecraft?” He raised a mocking eyebrow. “Come now, Miss Midgely. I would not have expected sensational literature from you.”
This last is from the beginning to the sequel to 'Fairborn', which won't make any sense to anyone since I don't think any of you have read the whole thing yet. Oh well
"W-who are you?' she stammered, stepping back, eyes darting down the corridor for a hint of a guard.
The hooded figure held up both hands to show they were empty. "Do not fear, Your Majesty. I am shamed to have come in such a furtive manner, but my errand is urgent for your life may be in jeopardy." The voice was masculine; melodious and pleasant to the ear like a well-written piece of music. Dahlya felt her fear melt away, and the stranger lifted his hands to his hood and lowered it. She gasped again as the hood revealed a man with narrow eyes and high cheekbones, his smooth, youthful features framed by snow-white hair.
When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
I literally started this fanfic this morning, from a wish that Fawkes had not disappeared entirely. Then I thought, wouldn't it be neat if he visited Snape after the events of HBP? Unlikely, I know, but interesting all the same. I have no idea if I'll ever finish it.
"Sir, you're bleeding," Draco said in a shaking voice. Snape looked down with surprise at his arm, noticing for the first time the large gash that had ripped through his sleeve and and skin. He remembered then, the hippogriff that had come to Potter's aid, who had reared up, blocking Lily's eyes from his view and scratching him deeply. Pain started throbbing the length of his arm as adreneline faded and he absently wrapped his tattered sleeve around it, wondering why he simply did not fix it with a wave of his wand.
This next is an original fantasy, which I think will be a conglomeration of bits and pieces of unfinished fantasy stories I had laying around, but I haven't worked on it much because of editing 'Fairborn' and it's more challenging than I thought. The main character is nearly blind; all that she can see is vague gray shapes in good light and I constantly had to backspace on describing color and other things that only a person with sight would see.
Tatyana lay still as she listened for the nearly imperceptible sound that had awakened her. It couldn't be morning yet; the duyma was silent--or nearly silent. There. She heard it again, a creak in one of the floorboards outside her room. Then there was absolute silence again. Clutching a shawl around her nightclothes, she stepped over the sleeping Nulina and opened the door a crack. A hiss of voices, whispering in a language Tatyana didn't know was growing louder, and she heard a shuffling of feet trying to walk quietly. She shut the door, heart pounding, hoping that she hadn't been seen. Eyes; she needed to see. Padding back across the floor, she felt her way to Nulina's face and covered her mouth with one hand.
"Nulina, don't speak. It's me," she breathed into the other girl's ear. "There's someone outside. Strangers. I need you to look at them. Just peek out the door."
Nulina didn’t move. Tatyana shook her shoulder harder, but her future sister-in-law didn’t stir. A horrible thought presented itself, and she fumbled at the high neck of Nulina’s nightgown and thrust her fingers into the soft flesh at the hollow of her jaw. Yes, her heart was still beating. But why was she still asleep?
For a few quiet minutes, fear paralyzed Tatyana, and she sat huddled by Nulina’s sleeping form, wondering what she should do.
An old story, but one I think still has promise. It's set in Regency England and meant to be a murder mystery, though I haven't gotten much further than the discovery of the body (*cue omnious music*). The characters are good, but I think I got bogged down with trying to imitate Jane Austen, which is hard and I tend to overdo it. Lord Oliver Hazard gestured toward the books cradled in my arms. “What were you reading, if I may ask?”
I showed him the titles and was not disappointed when he let out a short bark of laughter.
“Wollstonecraft?” He raised a mocking eyebrow. “Come now, Miss Midgely. I would not have expected sensational literature from you.”
This last is from the beginning to the sequel to 'Fairborn', which won't make any sense to anyone since I don't think any of you have read the whole thing yet. Oh well
"W-who are you?' she stammered, stepping back, eyes darting down the corridor for a hint of a guard.
The hooded figure held up both hands to show they were empty. "Do not fear, Your Majesty. I am shamed to have come in such a furtive manner, but my errand is urgent for your life may be in jeopardy." The voice was masculine; melodious and pleasant to the ear like a well-written piece of music. Dahlya felt her fear melt away, and the stranger lifted his hands to his hood and lowered it. She gasped again as the hood revealed a man with narrow eyes and high cheekbones, his smooth, youthful features framed by snow-white hair.