Mama Kitty

Crawling Back On The Wagon

Sat, 28 Jun 2008 10:21:51 GMT

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.

HP fic: George/Luna

Mon, 22 Oct 2007 03:42:08 GMT

As yet untitled. Kinda rough.

She considered it her Saturday afternoon sitting. As such, she prepared carefully as she laid out her oil paints and canvas. She laid out her collection of brushes, each ready to catch a newly observed nuance in the portrait.

Like most of her subjects, this one wasn't aware that she attempted to capture him perfectly in the simple paints at her disposal. Unlike the rest of her subjects, this portrait would never grace the pages of one of her books. While she was certainly fascinated by a Georgicus Weaselus, she was certain that not many others were.

The clock struck one, and she realized that her subject was half an hour late. Luna stared at the clock in alarm. George never missed his Saturday afternoon lunches. She turned back to the window, brows drawn close together. "I hope it wasn't me," she muttered to herself. "But then, how could he know I was here?"

"Tricksters have a sixth sense about being watched," a voice said from her doorway. "Even former tricksters."

Luna squeaked and turned, nearly tripping herself in the process. "George!" Her eyes darted around the room, she realized she was blocking his view of the portrait. Her shoulders relaxed infinitesimally. "Whatever do you mean?" she stammered.

George straightened from his slouch in the door-frame. "I mean I've been feeling that strange niggle that means somebody's watching me. I've felt it for about six weeks now. Asking around, turns out that's about when you rented this studio, back from your latest expedition into the forbidden forests of the world." He stepped closer. "The real question, of course, is why."

Luna backed closer to the portrait, standing as tall and wide as she could make herself. "Well, it's just interesting to spot someone I know," she attempted a nonchalant shrug. "That's all."

George took a few steps closer and Luna's eyebrows rose higher on her forehead. "So why are you trying to hide that portrait. Surely I didn't inspire an idea for an as-yet-unpublicized species of magical creature?"

Luna forgot about trying to hide the painting. "I beg your pardon. Are you implying that my research is a sham?"

George started to make a snide reply, then stopped. He tilted his head, stared at a point over her shoulder as if transfixed. Luna closed her eyes and tried to remember the consequences of stalking. Surely it wasn't THAT bad.

"Do I really look that lost?" he asked quietly.

Luna opened her eyes, and nearly slammed them shut again. George looked.... devastated. "Only sometimes," she answered hesitantly. "The painting, it's not done."

George reached over her shoulder to touch it, but his hand hovered centimeters from the oil paint. "It's magnificent, Luna. I can't imagine it any better."

Luna looked up at George. He wore his hair the raucous side of too long. Probably in an attempt to cover up his missing ear. “I had a good teacher,” she mumbled. “It's not a proper portrait, but I rather like the Muggle style.” She resisted a shiver. He was so close. Without another word, that blissful heat was gone. George stood in the doorway again. She couldn't read his expression. Her stomach twisted painfully. He tilted his head and smiled faintly. “I'm off to lunch. Usual time next week though.”

He was gone before her smile bloomed.

~*~

He stopped by after the sitting, just as she finished cleaning her brushes. “Let's have tea.” Her eyes widened and she almost forgot to finish drying her hands. “Don't you have a shop to run?” His lips turned up at the corners, almost a full smile. “There are many advantages to being the boss, you know. That includes the ability to leave my minions in charge whenever I feel the urge to take an old school chum to tea.”

“Did you know that chum is a mix of fish parts and blood used to attract sharks?” She asked, then blushed when she realized how stupid she sounded.

George looked disconcerted for a moment. “Are you calling me a shark?”

Rather than answer the question, and the underlying implication, Luna grabbed her bag and keys. “Tea sounds wonderful.”

~*~

She didn't want to tell him that'd she'd finished the portrait. She had, in fact, finished it three weeks ago.

But what would she do without her Saturday sitting and tea? She pondered as she sat staring at the finished painting.

So that day she waited for him at his usual table. He seemed slightly confused at first, but recovered quickly. “Fancy meeting you here. Feeling a bit peckish?”

She shook out a napkin to tuck into her shirt-front. "Oh, I've finished most of my projects. I thought perhaps a rewarding luncheon would make my day complete."

George froze with his hand on the back of his chair. "A finished project is good news, yes." He turned the chair backward and straddled it. Then he crossed his arms over the back to rest his chin on them. "Does this mean you'll be leaving for the field again?"

Luna examined the menu printed on the placemat in front of her. "Not yet, I'm still waiting for travel approval. The magical community in South America is very touchy. They're worried that I'll do something to endanger the local fauna. Though, they do have precedence for their caution."

"Come to dinner with me," he said suddenly. "On a date. A real one. Not this pansy dancing we've been doing for the past few months."

She blinked at him in shock a few times, then broke into a wide grin. "That would be very nice."

Buffy Fic

Sun, 23 Sep 2007 19:09:20 GMT

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.

Buffy locked the door behind her as she left the general behind. It wasn't good news, but she'd had worse. She caught up to Satsu and Willow as they finished healing the worst of the injuries. "Let's check the other cells, see if anybody else needs rescuing. Be careful though, any demons they have locked up are probably more than half-crazy at this point.

Satsu took off in one direction, while Willow and Buffy took door 29. Buffy kicked open the door, then reeled back at the odor. Her eyes teared, but she still saw the decapitated body. "I know some demons are supposed to smell like this, but this one is definitely dead."

Willow already moved on to the next cell. They found few survivors, all of them showed signs of torture and neglect. Buffy's heart hurt when she found the family of Naberius demons. They'd died holding eachother.

"Ma'am, I think I found something," Satsu called from her end of the long hall. "I think she's human."

Both older women set out at a trot. The peered into cell 45 and studied the frantically rocking shadow in the corner.

Buffy heard whispering. "I'll lie, I can lie, but machines don't. I calibrated the machine every time. I used fresh baselin, I used _your_ blood. They're human, they're human. Machines don't lie." She repeated the mantra, eyes firmly shut.

"Hey, you," Buffy called out as she took a cautious step forward.

The girl froze and her eyes shot open. They shone a startling blue against the layers of grime on her skin and hair. "You're not General Voll," she whispered tightly.

The blond woman shook her head. "No, I'm Buffy."

The girl gasped. "Slayer. Slayers are human. Blood says they are. Blood doesn't lie. Machines don't lie."

Buffy managed not to flinch when she put a hand on the girl's filthy shoulder. "I believe you. Please, calm down."

The girl looked up at the original Slayer. A tear tracked through the dirt on her cheek. "No more lies?" she asked.

Buffy shook her head firmly. "You never have to lie. I'd actually prefer it if you didn't."

The girl nodded. "Okay."

Buffy held out her other hand. "Let's get out of here. Get you into a shower, maybe?" She heard Willow and Satsu move away from the door.

The girl looked toward the empty doorway. "No!" She shouted and squeezed herself into the corner of the cell. "Not another trick. Not again. Stay right here. Wait for the hoses. Not leaving, not leaving."

Buffy sighed. Then punched the girl, who slumped over, unconscious. "Satsu, find a blanket. She's filthy and I am _not_ picking her up like that."

The two slayers wrapped the woman security into a spare wool blanket found in a supply closet. I twas tight enough to prevent a struggle if she woke.

Willow leaned around the door fram. "They're starting to wake up. We'd better vamoose while the getting is good. If I can have a volunteer for battery duty, I'll get us back in Scotland quicker than a shake."

Buffy stood with the girl in her arms. "Use us both, spread it out."

They all stood in the cell, Willow with a hand on each slayer. buff felt the drain as Willow began to chant. It didn't take long for the image through the doorway to change. Buffy smiled when she saw the castle courtyard.

Then she felt the girl in her arms stiffen. She looked down at the frightened face. "I'm scared," the girl whispered.

Buffy smiled gently. "I'll be okay. Something's better on the other side. You'll see."

The girl squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. The slayer stepped through the portal, away from the hopless fear and certain death into ... a hopeful fear and possible death.

It wasn't perfect, but it would do.

Writing Challenge Table Thingy

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 23:03:32 GMT

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.

001.	I'm not gonna let you down.	002.	I don't need to be forgiven	003.	We've been posioned by these fairy tales	004.	Beating plowshares into swords for this tired old man that we've elected king.	005.	Here in the dark, in these final hours
006.	It's a new day, but it all feels old	007.	Are you happy out there in the great wide world?	008.	I remember the days you were a hero in my eyes	009.	Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone	010.	If we couldn't laugh we would go insane
011.	Something's better on the other side.	012.	You live (love, cry, lose, bleed, scream) you learn	013.	I don't know how to leave you	014.	Now I'm strong and I won't kneel (except to thank who's watching over me)	015.	This place I never thought would feel like home
016.	He's got no one to talk to and tears rolling down his face	017.	What will it take till you believe in me, the way that I believe in you?	018.	Sooner or later it comes down to fate	019.	We lived through a lifetime and the aftermath	020.	You ask me if I'll grow to be a wise man, and I ask if I'll grow old.
021.	If you go now, I'll understand.	022.	Steal a piece of time	023.	Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I'm only falling apart.	024.	Solider Battle Scars	025.	Dry your eyes and quietly bear this pain with pride
026.	We few shall carry hope within our bloodied hands	027.	And in my dying I'm more alive than I have ever been	028.	I can't allow this to become another one of those times that I'm left in the cold, dead.	029.	Another dream that I've taken from you	030.	Live in the dark and the world is threatening
031.	All the things I thought I knew, I'm learning again	032.	No sleep until I'm done finding the answer	033.	Don’t look back. You can never look back	034.	I've been dropped out, burned up, fought my way back from the dead.	035.	You're my living proof that love is alive and not dead.
036.	Almost human, but I'll never be the same	037.	Faith and trust and peace while we're alive	038.	I don't know if I can face it again	039.	Cut me off before it kills me	040.	Another war to fight
041.	We've already seen the worst that life can bring	042.	I just want one more night with you	043.	It's a new day, but it all feels old	044.	I spent so many years just learning how to survive.	045.	You can close your eyes, it's all right
046.	Count the seconds, roll the dice	047.	Living for the only thing I know.	048.	Surrounded by a million people I still feel all alone	049.	I've been here before - I know this room, I've walked this floor	050.	The impossible occurs each day

HP Fic

Sat, 30 Dec 2006 21:17:14 GMT

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.

***

Anyone who didn't know her avoided her. Even people who knew her might cross the street rather than chance an encounter.

George Weasley was one such a person, and if he hadn't been caught up in the idea of a flatulent jelly bean, he would have run for the hills. As it was, he ran right into her.

Luna squeaked and fell back several steps. George was by no means a small man.

"Oh, pardon me, dreadfully- Luna Lovegood." His eyes widened and darted from side to side, searching for an escape.

Her soft blue eyes blinked at him owlishly. "Oh, hello, Mister Weasley. So good to see you. I would greet you by your first name, but I would so hate to be wrong. But-" She paused to look him up and down, "do you mind if I guess?"

George gaped at her like a fish out of water. Luna took his bewilderment as a yes.

She leaned back and narrowed her eyes. She circled him, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "You are George," she pronounced.

George closed his mouth and clinked. "Well, yes. How did you guess?"

Luna pointed at his ear. "You have a freckle on your left ear lobe. Fred doesn't have any ear freckles. It's not very distinct, but I find such details essential in case you're ever taken over by Skrulls."

George continued to blink in bewilderment. "Skrulls? What? Where?"

"You haven't heard?" Luna sounded scandalized at the possibility.

George flapped his arms helplessly. "I don't get out much," he jabbered.

Luna reached into her robe and pulled out a colorful magazine. "It''s the most fascinating story from the Americas about people who seem to be exclusively specialized wizards. Their leader can read minds. I haven't heard of someone doing that since-"

George clapped a hand over her mouth. "Luna, that's a comic book."

The witch nodded eagerly, eyes bright. "Mm-mmfmmng?"

George lifted his hand. "What?"

Luna beamed. "I said, isn't it fascinating?"

"You do know it's fiction, right?"

Her gaze turned hard and she snatched back the comic book. "Of course I do. I'm not as crazy as the lot of you seem to think. I had high hopes that you might've grown up a bit in the last ten years, but you're as hopeless as ever, George Weasley." She whirled away in a colorful swirl of fabric.

George briefly pondered a spell that would tattoo the word "heel" across his forhead. He reached out to grasp a handful of robe. "Wait! Luna, wait."

The woman peered at him over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in irritation. "Yes?"

George's shoulders drooped. "I'm – I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." He ran a hand through already mussed hair. "Listen, let me buy you a butter beer, it's the least I can do."

Luna sniffed haughtily. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."

~*~

Her back hit the wall with a thump. She couldn't suppress a giggle, which was quickly muffled with a hot and demanding kiss. Luna whimpered at the rising heat in her limbs, hands buried wrist deep in unruly red hair. She pushed up on her toes and hooked a knee around his hip, pushing herself closer to what she wanted.

"This is probably a very bad idea," George panted.

Luna's fists tightened in his hair. "Probably, but if you stop I may have to kill you."

George didn't stop.

The End

Notes for NaNo

Tue, 31 Oct 2006 14:44:55 GMT

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

Progress report.

Wed, 20 Sep 2006 18:40:45 GMT

2,040 / 50,000
(3.0%)

Tue, 27 Dec 2005 14:24:17 GMT

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.

Mon, 26 Sep 2005 23:52:54 GMT

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.

Day 3

Tue, 20 Sep 2005 20:08:33 GMT

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.

Letter to Nimir Raj

Fri, 16 Sep 2005 18:31:28 GMT

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.

St. Louis Recon

Fri, 16 Sep 2005 14:42:16 GMT

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.