(still without adequate voice for singing erika-HLOTS hosannas)
(leaving house momentarily, so will hopefully retain coherency by tonight)
River: I didn't think you'd come for me. Simon: Well, you're a dummy.
'Serenity'
Buffista Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies
Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
deborah grabien - Sep 28, 2003 9:23:00 am PDT #6880 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
erikaj - Sep 28, 2003 9:40:27 am PDT #6881 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!
Thanks. Not to worry, I'll be high for a week, now. Femininity and manicure be damned. (Unless of course, you have friends in television.) HighSchool! Tim is easy, cause I turned down a three-way once in college cause I was all "Where does everything *go*? Which the guy thought was terribly witty(which I embraced) but I wasn't kidding. Not in the slightest. He was cute...but he counted. And his numbers went to three figures. And he made the mistake of telling me when he was a boy his uncle fed him acid tabs in his Skittles.And "Oh, poor baby," didn't used to make me feel erotic...now I'd be in trouble. (It hasn't been a normal life, but there've been a few exciting moments.)And I've NEVER Told anyone that...and now I've told 300 of my closest friends...my god. And I loved the chance to give Munch my thoughts on Monica,nsm the mouth, that's his.
Beverly - Sep 28, 2003 7:01:29 pm PDT #6882 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.
Erika, again with the dead-on voices. I just stand around on the street corner waiting for the next installment to hit the stands.
Nicole, I reread your piece. Your story's intriguing, your characters very close to canon, especially Cordy, you've got her perfectly. I agree with the critique you've been given here, it needs a bit of sanding and smoothing, otherwise, it's a fun read, and hot in the spots you meant it to be hot.
deborah grabien - Sep 28, 2003 7:09:28 pm PDT #6883 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
"Where does everything *go*?
I think it likely depends on the proportions of said gender sandwich....
DebetEsse - Sep 28, 2003 7:42:37 pm PDT #6884 of 10001
Woe to the fucking wicked.
Is there an accepted age/DOB for Dawn?
sj - Sep 28, 2003 8:00:49 pm PDT #6885 of 10001
"There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea."
She was sixteen last year. I don't think we have a birthday though.
deborah grabien - Sep 28, 2003 8:02:12 pm PDT #6886 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Whoa. Good question. I do know she gave her age during OMWF - "I'm just 15, it's kinda lame", IIRC - so could one extrapolate backward?
This week's Sunday 100 is music. Mine (I may do more) with apologies to Evanescence, Darla/Dru:
Bring Me To Life
She lay under cover of a night without a moon, her back against a bed of earth.
Above her, something feathered wheeled and dipped, a fabulous patch of dark against a darker background. Her eyes were open. She could see, she could hear. I am an embryo, she thought, a journey waiting to happen, waiting...
"Darla."
Drusilla, a Pygmalion in a cinch-waist and absurd shoes, whispering her name. Singing it. Crooning it.
"You were nothing, grandmother, daughter. I'm saving you from the dark."
A final step, begging, singing words to a song as yet unwritten:
Bring me to life.
Nicole - Sep 28, 2003 8:29:36 pm PDT #6887 of 10001
I'm getting the pig!
erika, now I'm wishing that I watched Homicide.
Nicole, I reread your piece. Your story's intriguing, your characters very close to canon, especially Cordy, you've got her perfectly. I agree with the critique you've been given here, it needs a bit of sanding and smoothing, otherwise, it's a fun read, and hot in the spots you meant it to be hot.
Thank you. I'm still working on the smoothing of what I have since I'm stuck on how to begin the next portion. I trust that my muse shall return as soon as sanding is complete. Ok...trying to trust. sigh
deborah, I can not express enough how much the grace of your words mesmerize me.
deborah grabien - Sep 28, 2003 8:36:20 pm PDT #6888 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Second musical drabble.
Someone to Watch Over Me
(Because the Gershwin boys are good for grieving): post "The Gift"
She'd sat there all day, alone until sunset.
Her sister's face was pale, a bit bruised from the fall, her body kept from putrefaction by the stasis of Willow's spell. She'd sat there all day, tearless, silent. If she opened her mouth, Dawn thought, there was a pretty good chance she'd start screaming and not be able to stop.
The crypt door creaked. "Shove over, niblet, will you?"
He sat beside her. After awhile, he began to sing under his breath, looking at Buffy. "Someone to watch over me....."
And Dawn, humming a song she'd never heard, began to sob.
deborah grabien - Sep 28, 2003 9:18:56 pm PDT #6889 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Third and last. All about Edith Piaf.
Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
In the postwar madness of Paris, where the stink of the Nazis' tenure still hung over the City of Light like the devil's smoke, two vampires fed on a girl.
They'd got in the only way they could: by invitation. Luckily for them, since they were hungry, she'd been starving. Food in the days following the Liberation wasn't exactly plentiful. They'd knocked on her door, holding some quenelles and a tin of potted meat. She ceased being une jeune fille and became meat herself.
Afterward, they played her tinny records, dancing slowly to Edith Piaf: "non, je ne regrette rien"....