Mama Kitty

It occurs to me, as I am currently trying to motivate myself into writing a solo novel, that I should start posting about my progress. Or lack thereof. Accidentally sleeping until 4am has not helped with my progress, but discovering GoGUI has. It's a neat portable desktop app, so I can work on stuff at work, then again at home, all without having to carry the media with me, or remember to email it back and forth.

The current steam/cyber punk Jack the Ripper novel has less than 500 words actually written, and about that many in the outline/notes area.

This calls for coffee.

As yet untitled. Kinda rough.

( Space saver! )

Title: Leftovers
Prompt: # 11 "Something's better on the other side."
Pairing: As yet there are none.
Spoilers: Post-Show, End of The Long Way Home in the comics.
Rating: T
Word Count: 638
Summary: After the general, Buffy, Willow, and Satsu look for other prisoners.
Disclaimer: All of this belongs to Joss Whedon. Also, unbeta-ed. I had a significant lack of volunteers.

( On to the story. )

This is my prompt table for set2music. My fandom is Buffy.

Quit laughing.

Though, if anyone notices any repeats, please tell me. It's hard to tell in the HTML.

( My Table )

Title: Out for Supper
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: George/Luna

Summary: "Anyone who didn't know her avoided her."

Warnings: A teeny bit of naughtiness.



Wordcount: 600

Author's notes: I really want to write this some more.

***

( Out for Supper )

Now all I need are pronuciation guides and the approximate English pronunciation.

Japanese Fire = Kaji
Greek Air = αέρας
Spanish Wood = Madera
Russian Water = вода
Arabic Earth = أرض

Hannah paces the short length of her room. Ten paces between the bunked beds and the north wall, twelve to the door, ten back to the bed. Twelve more and she was back at the beginning.

She'd been stupid, incredibly stupid.

She considerred the alternative. Her stomach heaved in rebellion against the thought. She could never do that. Remembered pain made her tremble.

The blizzard continued to rage against the cabin window. Even if Mr. Logan were inclined to let her go, she had nowhere to run. Luckily, he had an excellent generator and plenty of fuel.

She would be safe here for a while. Then she could find a nice quiet place. Away from this mess.

Away from Paul. Away from Logan. Away from Pard.

She fell against a wall and slid down, curling up with a whimper. Alone.

Hannah shook herself. She really had no time for this nonsense.

She removed her clothes and folded them neatly into her tote. She took a long hot shower to loosen her muscles.

With the cold seeping through the porcelin of the tub, she crouched on all fours, head down and breathing hard. This part was always the worst, slowing the change to a painful crawl, under iron-willed control. Muscles contorted, bones popped, grotesquely slow.

She couldn't hold back the squeaks and whimpers of pain. Hopefully, Logan was too preoccupied with his charge to come investigate. Being caught mid-change would just be embarrassing.

And potentially fatal.

An inhuman yowl of grief echoes through the trees. Unchecked speed shouldered aside anything that got in her way.

She just ran, trying to escape the pain, escape her failure.

The moon was difficult. I missed my cubs terribly. They'll be shifting to human for the first time any day now. I don't know what I'll say to Paul if I miss it. Nimir Raj or not, they're my children. The pursuit of someone who is clearly no longer a danger to the pard is no damned excuse.

I should call, but my phone doesn't seem to work here.

Whatever surrounds these pard lands has kept me from getting any closer. I can watch the house though. He hasn't left by any method I can see since I found the place. Bullets won't even penetrate the barrier. I tested it on a tree. The tree is safe, but I had to dodge the ricochet.

I want to go home.

Sir,

I have located the bodies of both Elizabeth and Raina. There is no potential of danger from either one. Gabriel was not in St. Louis. Tracked him through the Causeways to the nexus of worlds.

Recommend cutting losses. It doesn't seem that he's coming back.

Lovelace.

Lovelace,

Destroy the renegade.

Nimir Raj

I crushed the memo in my hand. I didn't allow myself any second thoughts, I just took the hard-side briefcase from under my bed.

I didn't look back as I left. Not daring to let my children to see me before I went off to commit murder.

I was appalled at the destruction left in St. Louis. We've always avoided the St. Louis were community, and it looked like doing so was wise.

I suddenly missed my children with an overwhelming ache.

I pushed the urge to shift to the back of my mind. I had a job to do.

I tucked my hands into the pockets of my pea coat. I had to see if there were any survivors, and then I had to cover it up if any member of the were community was responsible.

The Glock 31 pressed into my ribs as a depressing reminder of how I would cover it up. I could never understand why people blamed lycanthropy for the utter sadistic violence of the community here.

Animals killed for food and protection. It took a human mind to take pleasure in pain.