Memes, continued
Nov. 7th, 2004 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenI went out with Patrick yesterday. It seems strange that I'm capable of spending the entire afternoon drinking coffee with an ex-boyfriend, but he's so sweet. I gave him his birthday present - the Discworld Alamanak, cannabis incense sticks and a pair of Vulcan ears - and he loved it all. I took pictures of him wearing the ears, and he bore it all with good grace.
In other news, Pedar says he owes me £109.73. I do not object to this, but had to admit to being rather mystified. It's apparently the amount of money my Harrison scholarship has saved him on my school fees. Therefore, I have spent a couple of days happily contemplating what I'm going to spend it on, and writing a very bad Politics essay.
That's my weekend. Now, the next meme:
If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or NaNoWriMo or what have you, postexactly about one sentence paragraph from each of your current work(s) in progress in your journal. It should probably be your favourite or most intriguing sentence so far, but what you choose is entirely your discretion. Mention the title (and genre) if you like, but don't mention anything else. This is merely to whet the general appetite for your forthcoming work(s).
Gacked from everyone on LJ, etc, etc.
M*A*S*H - Storyteller
"Choppers," Radar whispered that first time, head inclined towards a cooling sky, and Colonel Blake gave him a deep, searching look.
"You're special, kid," he said, and Radar will never forget it. He'll never forget his first sight of a dead body, nor the first time he heard the choppers swinging through storm-torn air, nor hearing Hawkeye cry and whisper in the Swamp at night, but there's indelible and there's indelible.
Harry Potter - Five Things That Never Happened to Remus Lupin
Sirius immediately brightens up again. "Moony, it's your birthday," he points out in tones that sound perfectly rational but Remus recognises as anything but, "and every minute you spend in idle sloth on this beautiful summer's day, the day of your birth and arrival into this world, is a minute wasted, especially when those minutes could be gainfully employed in present-opening or cake-eating or mischief-making or joining a secret society..."
Buffy - untitled gen
The songs he sings are an eclectic mixture - classic rock 'n' roll, obscure numbers from British bands she has to look up later, wordless Spanish flamenco, then the familiar rhythms of the Beatles that switch to grungy Nirvana mid-chord. Tara lingers and listens for hours at a time, letting the music wash over her like a magical flood, but she knows in her heart who the songs are sung for.
Buffy - untitled Willow/Tara
Willow looks rueful, a half-smile lingering around her lips. "She came back."
And somehow, that is all that matters; that it happened is enough. Willow can do magic again now, but there will never be anything to touch that knowledge: for a night and a day, she loved and was loved, because Tara came back.
Buffy - untitled gen, humour
"Bad day, pet?" Spike wanted to know.
"It's ridiculous," Giles muttered. "Entirely ridiculous. In the future there are going to be essays set about this. 'Discuss the diaries of former Watcher Rupert Giles, indicating to what extent you feel he was terribly unlucky, borderline insane, or just made the whole thing up.' Ridiculous."
Original (actually, my English coursework but that's neither here nor there)
A woman rolls over with grace. "Darling" - and the voice is whiny, petulant - "switch that off, will you?"
"But I wanted to hear it," he begins ineffectually. "The primary…"
"Darling."
The radio is switched off. The light goes on creeping across the floor.
Blah. I suck.
In other news, Pedar says he owes me £109.73. I do not object to this, but had to admit to being rather mystified. It's apparently the amount of money my Harrison scholarship has saved him on my school fees. Therefore, I have spent a couple of days happily contemplating what I'm going to spend it on, and writing a very bad Politics essay.
That's my weekend. Now, the next meme:
If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or NaNoWriMo or what have you, post
Gacked from everyone on LJ, etc, etc.
M*A*S*H - Storyteller
"Choppers," Radar whispered that first time, head inclined towards a cooling sky, and Colonel Blake gave him a deep, searching look.
"You're special, kid," he said, and Radar will never forget it. He'll never forget his first sight of a dead body, nor the first time he heard the choppers swinging through storm-torn air, nor hearing Hawkeye cry and whisper in the Swamp at night, but there's indelible and there's indelible.
Harry Potter - Five Things That Never Happened to Remus Lupin
Sirius immediately brightens up again. "Moony, it's your birthday," he points out in tones that sound perfectly rational but Remus recognises as anything but, "and every minute you spend in idle sloth on this beautiful summer's day, the day of your birth and arrival into this world, is a minute wasted, especially when those minutes could be gainfully employed in present-opening or cake-eating or mischief-making or joining a secret society..."
Buffy - untitled gen
The songs he sings are an eclectic mixture - classic rock 'n' roll, obscure numbers from British bands she has to look up later, wordless Spanish flamenco, then the familiar rhythms of the Beatles that switch to grungy Nirvana mid-chord. Tara lingers and listens for hours at a time, letting the music wash over her like a magical flood, but she knows in her heart who the songs are sung for.
Buffy - untitled Willow/Tara
Willow looks rueful, a half-smile lingering around her lips. "She came back."
And somehow, that is all that matters; that it happened is enough. Willow can do magic again now, but there will never be anything to touch that knowledge: for a night and a day, she loved and was loved, because Tara came back.
Buffy - untitled gen, humour
"Bad day, pet?" Spike wanted to know.
"It's ridiculous," Giles muttered. "Entirely ridiculous. In the future there are going to be essays set about this. 'Discuss the diaries of former Watcher Rupert Giles, indicating to what extent you feel he was terribly unlucky, borderline insane, or just made the whole thing up.' Ridiculous."
Original (actually, my English coursework but that's neither here nor there)
A woman rolls over with grace. "Darling" - and the voice is whiny, petulant - "switch that off, will you?"
"But I wanted to hear it," he begins ineffectually. "The primary…"
"Darling."
The radio is switched off. The light goes on creeping across the floor.
Blah. I suck.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2004-11-07 01:06 pm (UTC)lol. this is so very Giles. :)
no subject
on 2004-11-07 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2004-11-08 10:50 am (UTC)And I've told you before, but that icon is just so cute. :)
no subject
on 2004-11-07 04:30 pm (UTC)Oh, Raven. *sighs* Where is this? I want this.
I also love the dialogue in your HP piece. :)
no subject
on 2004-11-08 10:55 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-11-07 11:59 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2004-11-08 10:56 am (UTC)