There's one scene in what exists so far of my novel that makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. I love it when I'm funny.

I'm sure that when iI get mushy, if I do it well, I'll make myself cry. I'm a sap.

This week's Open on Sunday is illness/sickness. I just did two of them.

Vignette, with Sex and Death, 18th Century

Don't do this please please don't

Angelus has her by the throat. He's got himself in the other hand. One pleasure he never denies himself is a hard brutal rape. Nothing like penetrating a victim in multiple places at the same time.

oh merciful God don't no

She's barely struggling. He's got her skirts up, he mounts her, rubs his teeth over her throat. She's odd warm, oddly weak.

don't don't

He stops, seeing the telltale blue buboes just under the breastbone. Cursing, he backs away and leaves her.

Even beyond death, fear of the plague is hard to overcome.

Earshot

There's illness, and then there's this.

bet she doesn't wear panties ooooh he wants to be a study partner

She doesn't bother trying to block it out; the infection that is demon power running under her skin, through her bloodstream, crowding all the incohate voices in all the world into her consciousness, can't be stopped with sonics or headphones or balled fists. She's dry-eyed, hot to the touch, on the edge of screaming.

forgot my homework hate them all new shoes you don't know what to do about the math test

This is power as ultimate sickness. And it's mortal.

Same theme different fandom...just because(You didn't think I could resist this long, did you?)

Frank Pembleton expected betrayal. From lying braindead witnesses, his partner, who still acted wet behind the ears half the time, and, hell, even from God when He failed to keep house in the Pembleton standard. But he never expected to be his own betrayer, brought down by some piss-ant blood clot. That clot couldn’t match him in the Box, and yet it did what few suspects could. Left him lying flat in his own domain. That clot would fucking *pay*. At the hospital they ask him to count, and their voices are a little too loud. A little too helpful. He pictures himself drawing that out, the way he could in what Mary calls his God voice. Aren’t we help-ful? But it sounds like grunts.He tries to give them his “Please don’t be an idiot. Thank you,” face when they ask him if he knows where he is, but the words get mixed up. Detective Pembleton is afraid.

Oh, MAN, Pembleton's stroke. That episode nearly killed me.

Remember him coming back to work, standing in front of the building, afraid to walk in, with the Cowboy Junies playing in the background?

Damn.

Yeah. Or him looking at those steps he used to bound around on and you can see he thinks "Oh, crap."I love InterrogationGod! Pembleton, of course, but they breezed through the stroke...I think making it hard would've made Mary's marital unhappiness more believable, and... well, enough about that.

In the City Part Twelve: Dredging up the past.

There was one thing on God’s green Earth that Riley didn’t want to do at this moment, and that was to go running to Buffy for help. Nonetheless, his fingers were dialing her number as soon as he reached the phone.

“Buffy,” he said, urgently. "It’s … yeah, I know what time it is there … No, I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t …’

Oz watched impassively—arms folded, leaning against a support beam. From the beginning, he’d figured this whole scheme was a disaster. But Faith … gone bad again. There was a spark of panic electrifying his spine. He’s seen what she could do.

“I’m telling you Buffy, it was … What do you mean she’s not in America? When did you see her last? …. Two months? … Well a lot can happen in …”

Oz hit a button on a counsel, and green lights flittered to life. Green for advance team, red for full staff. He hated to admit it, but this super spook business was actually kind of agreeing with him – for a while, at least.

He looked at Riley: not really panicking, but hyperactively practical. They didn’t really know each other—Oz knew he had wife somewhere. A government agent, like himself. He knew Riley and Buffy used to be an item.

Buffy was obviously not swayed. Riley slammed down the receiver.

Amy woke with a start as the buzzer erupted. She tried to lay back down, to ignore it, but she knew better.

“So much for an early night,” she thought, quickly rising and grabbing a pair of sweats from where she’d kicked them off. The buzzer pounded in her ears. “Damnation,” she thought. “The money’s god at this gig, but this? This is …”

She wasn’t alone in the room.

“Illuminate," she intoned, waving an open palm in a semicircular arc. The room exploded with light, and there stood Willow. Her hair black as a velvet painting, the veins showing through her translucent skin.

“There’s this thing,” said Willow, taking one step toward her. “It’s like an itch—hovering right there at the base of my neck.”

Amy was frozen with fear. Whatever was up with Willow, it was dangerous. Amy could see the aura of power that was pulsing through her. The tiny woman in black standing in front of her was a veritable nuclear reactor.”

“Y’see,” said Willow, edging even closer. “All I need to do is get you out of the way. Just snap your neck, right here, and …”

And there was a crash as Justine came barreling through the door, her fist connecting with Willow’s jaw in a rain of splinter. Willow slammed backward into the wall.

“Ow,” she said, steadying herself. “That really hurt! Bitch!”

Justine threw another punch., this time to the stomach.

“Burn,” said Willow, and suddenly Justine’s clothes combusted. Amy tried to cast a spell to shield Justine from any more attacks, but to no avail. Justine fell screaming to the floor.”

“We have a good deal of catching up to do,” said Willow, confidently—but not today. Today’s message is, “get the fuck out.”

And with that, Willow was gone.

snarf-guggle.

*blink*

kizzowitz.

I have no English. Need more story.

I love that!

Was it Willow? Or was it Memorex?

Was that Willow? Was that Faith in the previous chapter?

Hmmm. Certainly looks like them. They each caused some destruction and minor property damage. Hmmm...

I should write more of this, shouldn't I?

Was that Willow? Was that Faith in the previous chapter?

Dude, if you don't know ...