May have been the losing side. Still not convinced it was the wrong one.

Mal ,'Bushwhacked'


Buffista Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies  

Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.


amyparker - Feb 22, 2004 7:29:17 pm PST #8613 of 10001
You've got friends to have good times with. When you need to share the trauma of a badly-written book with someone, that's when you go to family.

Connie, could you come over to Bitches for a moment?


deborah grabien - Feb 22, 2004 7:48:08 pm PST #8614 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.

This week's drabble theme is: use one of the four elements.

Earth

She came awake suddenly, too suddenly. From perfect quiescence, the quiet of oblivious unending sleep, to the critical heart-starting shock of blood moving through collapsed veins, new flesh blooming on dead bones, muscles that had become the consistency of jerky suddenly coming alive again, rediscovering themselves - it was too much, even for her.

A lid screwed on tight, imprisoning walls. She began to breathe, remembering fiery holes in the sky, her sister screaming, the ground that she lay in now, coming closer as time ceased to matter.

Buffy, embedded deep in earth, began to claw at her own coffin.


erikaj - Feb 22, 2004 7:56:56 pm PST #8615 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!

Absofuckinglutely, Deb...sorry after the finale of SATC, have it on the brain. CN is still the only man who could call me "kiddo" and you know, live.


erikaj - Feb 23, 2004 3:26:08 pm PST #8616 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!

Funny or not? Cause I don't need help making me laugh...and I've got enough stuff to write,
On a Fictional Manhattan Elevator
>

We see Detective John Munch starting his day with, well, his usual attitude....standing in the elevator, mumbling about some injustice or other. The elevator stops on a floor and dings. As the door opens, we see Samantha Jones, overdressed as usual. She is debating whether to get on or wait for another elevator.

MUNCH: You know, lady, they stopped issuing invitations for these things years ago...make up your mind...while we’re young.

SAMANTHA: In that case, I’m about...fifteen years too late then. Going down?

MUNCH: Not after that, I’m not.

SAMANTHA: I meant the elevator.

MUNCH: Sure you did, babe. And that’s the face you were born with.

SAMANTHA: Well, it’s mine now. I paid for it.


deborah grabien - Feb 23, 2004 4:53:27 pm PST #8617 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.

Hee! Banterlicious.

Second drabble in the elements theme; this time fire.

Fire

There was sunlight in his veins.

It happened fast, the way he'd have imagined, had he given it any thought. A creature of the darkness, of unending night, possessor of a soul that did nothing but hurt, no matter what he did - and here he was, deep underground, and the sun was moving through him like a flash flood of solar flares, uncounted atoms of raw heat under his dead blue skin.

He stood, and laughed, and marvelled, flesh and blood and bone burning away as he channelled the power of the light.

And he saw how it ended.


sj - Feb 23, 2004 5:34:00 pm PST #8618 of 10001
"There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea."

Wow, deb. You have a way of making powerful moments even more powerful.


deborah grabien - Feb 23, 2004 5:38:52 pm PST #8619 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.

Thanks, sj. After all, he did say he wanted to see how it ended....


deborah grabien - Feb 23, 2004 8:07:37 pm PST #8620 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.

One final elements drabble, for all of them.

Elemental

It only took a moment to die.

From inhale to exhale, the briefest moment in history - it went like this:

First, the sound of air whistling, surprise, cold steel embedded in the soft toughness of the human heart.

Next, the slow icy burn of the bullet, so small, so infinite in its hurt; the froth of water boiling up in dying lungs.

Finally, the sorry dance of gravity, falling into death, earth to earth.

It takes longer to tell than to feel, to end, to cease to be.

Inhale, exhale, a look of surprise. She never heard Willow screaming.


erikaj - Feb 24, 2004 4:59:41 am PST #8621 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!

Just a couple perverts sitting around talking(and getting meta)Maybe I oughta stay out of my stash on weeknights... [link] Should this be in Enablers? Not even close to Buffyverse...And my plural wife demonstrates her tremendous mastery of the drabble form, as always.


sj - Feb 24, 2004 8:12:55 am PST #8622 of 10001
"There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea."

Erika, that is hysterical.