Another meme.

[deird_lj]

Meme stolen from brutti_ma_buoni:
Post a paragraph from all the WIPs you can find, no further comments.

I don't have any "WIPs" in the "already posted half of it" sense, but I do have quite a few unfinished fics floating around on my hard drive. So here goes...



The Fang Gang explore a house in Louisiana:

“Um – guys?”
They turned. Angel was still standing outside, hand up against the empty doorway.
Gunn raised an eyebrow. “Can’t get in?”
“Really can’t.”
“Oh. Right.”
There was a short pause, and then Wesley turned to the others and suggested, “Why don’t we explore?”
Angel frowned. “Hey!”
“What exactly do you expect us to do?” Wesley reasoned. “We can’t invite you inside.”
“Well, no…”
That settled, their attention turned back to the room.
Cordelia went left, Fred went right, and Gunn and Wesley went straight for the body by the stairs.

The Cordettes being awesome:

Of course, it was a bit different from normal.
They couldn’t hold it in the school gym – so Cordelia Chase volunteered her house, with a general announcement made in class, and formal invitations to be issued at the door, if you could prove you had a reflection.

They put up decorations, organised catering, made posters, and managed – for a whole week – to get the entire class talking “prom” and nothing else, even after the Espresso Pump Massacre.

And when the Whitehats said they’d be too busy to come, Cordelia and Harmony marched straight into the library, and came out half an hour later with a guarantee that they’d all take the night off specially.
(After all, Cordelia had reasoned, everyone needs time off occasionally. Just… a night not to think about vampires or impending doom or anything gross like that. We’re going to spend an evening going crazy, in true teenage style. Coming?
Then she’d turned to Oz, and informed him that they’d need music, and now that Devon was off sucking blood or whatever, she’d need him to sing, too.)

A hundred-odd years ago:

It wasn’t that he was a letch, a drunkard, or an oaf. He always behaved in a decent and mannerly fashion.
But he’d turn and greet people with the most unexpected questions, and one never knew quite how to respond.

“Miss Cecily Underwood, sir. She is the eldest daughter of Mr Robert Underwood, the barrister.”
“Cecily.”
A pause.
“Isn’t she simply the most mellifluous lady you have ever seen? A pure expression of elegant simplicity.”
“Yes, sir. May I offer you a canapé?”

Dawn/Andrew:

And it wouldn’t actually matter who it was, either – Xander, Kennedy, pizza delivery guy – because he’d probably tell everyone, all week, until every single person he knew had heard the glorious news.

He was such a dork.

Dawn grinned – and then bit her lip.
No. No grinning. He was a dork, which was annoying, and bad, and shouldn’t be nearly as cute as it actually was.

Oh crap. She was getting nervous again.

Another Grimm Brothers crossover:

And when your mother’s slamming your head repeatedly into the tabletop, and shrieking about how stupid and worthless you are, Jack, why don’t you have any sense, Jack, you’re going to send me to an early grave, Jack… you might start to wonder if maybe you should have sold the cow to someone else, instead.
That is, if you haven’t yet worked out that you’ve got the world’s most precious possession in your hands.

My Mutant Enemy writers RPF:

She was never going to get this stupid thing written.

Once upon a time, she’d wanted to be a vet, and run a rescue shelter for stray animals. Of course, she’d realised within a week that fainting at the sight of blood and operating on things weren’t really compatible. But still – why couldn’t she have a nice simple job that involved puppies, or something, rather than tearing her hair out trying to create worthless stories that would be broadcast once and then forgotten? (And not even broadcast at all if someone famous died suddenly and the news asked for extra time.) Why did she keep doing this to herself?

An advanced case of masochism, probably.
Some people experimented with whips, and chains, and breaking bones; Jane went straight for trying to be simultaneously entertaining and deep, weekly, on command. She was hard-core.

She leant back in her chair, and let her gaze wander around the room, aimlessly searching for inspiration.

There was her bookshelf, enticing her to give up on the script writing and spend her afternoon reading. There was the lava lamp, languidly splooting orange bubbles upwards. There was the open doorway, with the sounds of David and Drew’s latest argument drifting down the corridor towards her. There was her computer, still stubbornly not having a finished script on it. There was the window – and Steven and Michael outside, a third of the way through wrapping Tim’s car.

She’d have to start using a different parking lot, in case the others retaliated. This feud really was getting out of hand.

A story starring Faith:

She sat up, and twisted to look at the gash running down her arm to the elbow.
Not deep, but it had ripped up her top (B’s top), and gotten blood everywhere (B’s blood), and her arm (B’s – stop it) was probably gonna get a fancy new scar out of the deal.
Still – it’d be okay. Slayer healing was good like that. Give it a day or two, and her body would be back to normal.

Her body… was probably on its way to England. Wow.

A Watcher gets advice from someone more experienced:

“One of my girls – Julia, her name was. She was eleven when I met her, and the most disorganised person I’ve ever known.” Lucy’s eyes were far away. “She was a brilliant fighter – when she showed up for training. And an excellent student. But she was never called.” She picked up her glass again. “Good thing, too.”

“What happened to her?”

“No idea. I was assigned to someone else.”

“Hmm.”

Apparently he hadn’t sounded persuasive enough. Lucy looked at him sharply, and said, “I’m not telling you this for my own amusement, you know.”

“Right. Uh… sorry.”

She leaned across the table and gripped his hand. “The Council probably told you not to get emotionally involved – not to let yourself get distracted. Didn’t they?”

James nodded, wondering where this was going.

“Well, they’re right.” Aunt Lucy let go of his hand. She looked out the window, and said, under her breath, “It’s much easier to destroy someone if you don’t care that you’re doing it.”

Questions? Comments?

Comments

[next_to_normal]

Interesting! I really kinda want to read the ME RPF now, lol.

But what is the deal with all these memes going around that I've already done? All my fic is already in chronological order, I've already posted snippets from unfinished fic (more than once, I think), and I've already done commentaries on several fics, so there's not much left for the "pick a paragraph" meme. How am I supposed to avoid working on my paper when there's no more memes??

[deird1]

There's no help for it. You're going to have to start inventing your own memes. :)

One day I'll actually get that RPF finished and posted. It's been stalled for quite a while, now.

[next_to_normal]

Invent my own memes? I don't think I have enough creativity for that. (My creativity has been hovering around zero for far too long. I can't even get up the energy to scrapbook!)

[brutti-ma-buoni.livejournal.com]

Hmm. Somewhat inevitably the Faith and Watcher stories appeal to me; I am very predictable. The Cordettes too - I don't get enough Wishverse. You and snowpuppies are nearly convincing me about Dawn/Andrew.

(Was the first one by any chance for the Good Evil Clue fic challenge that didn't really happen?)

[deird1]

Somewhat inevitably the Faith and Watcher stories appeal to me; I am very predictable. The Cordettes too - I don't get enough Wishverse.

Hopefully I'll get them finished, sometime soon. They're all ones I like quite a bit.

You and snowpuppies are nearly convincing me about Dawn/Andrew.

Woo! *high fives snowy*

(Was the first one by any chance for the Good Evil Clue fic challenge that didn't really happen?)

Yep. I have two of them worked out - this hugely complicated Fang Gang one, which should have several chapters, and a Scooby Gang one that's just cracky as anything.

I couldn't make either of them actually get written, though...

[urania-calliope.livejournal.com]

I'm fascinated by that last one. I'd love to read that 'fic.

[deird1]

Excellent. Must finish it.

[lavastar.livejournal.com]

Ummmm, can all of these be posted like RIGHT NOW???

JK, I get the whole impossibly-stalled thing, but...they all look SO good....*cries*

The sad thing? I did one of these in July, and haven't posted or come close to finishing any of them. *headdesk*

[deird1]

*pats*

Oh, you'll finish them soon. (Or I'll come after you with a shotgun. I want to read them already! I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!!!!)
:)

Hopefully my brain will soon get into gear on at least some of these...

[lavastar.livejournal.com]

Hee! Possibly. If I ever, you know, work on them...


Haha, for a minute I was like, Oh, that Deird, being silly again, but then I remembered that you actually do know where I live and my real first name. And could totally stalk the shit out of me. :O

But you'd have to pay big airplane bucks to do it! Nyaaahhhh.

I'm actually working on two random fics that randomly appeared to me, so that's nice. Cause as said - getting nowhere on all that other stuff.