kaigou: this is what I do, darling (all muses are busy)
[personal profile] kaigou
I couldn't remember the word-limit on the meme, so I went for "about 1K words characters" or something. (What is that, like 150 words?) Anyway. All current works in progress, mostly, with some on the back burner longer than others.


1. thrall [ genderbender urban fantasy ]

"It does," he admitted, and then honesty pushed him to add, quieter, "just not as much as I'd expected." Lyall watched the Djurgården ferry round the tip of Skeppsholmen, but its chugging engine couldn't dim the music drifting faintly across the green. "There was a private school near my high school. All the girls wore little pleated skirts." He turned, leaning against the railing to keep the breeze from making him flash the dancers. "I used to make bargains weekly with any powers that might be listening, for just one chance to get into one of those skirts." He laughed, good-naturedly, at his younger hormone-crazed self. "This wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"They say," Ranulf replied, with a startling gravity that Lyall was beginning to figure out meant Ranulf was in fact highly amused, "if you're going to make deals with the devil, you should be very specific."


2. koji ma oshi* [ futuristic with d/s themes ]

"It's not that you can't." He scratched at his chest, idly, and let his hand fall. "It's only that it's difficult, with a brain that moves as fast as yours."

"You say that like it's a problem." I rolled onto my stomach so I could drag my hair out from under me, and planted my face into the mattress.

His snort became a chuckle. I kicked him in the shin, but feebly. He didn't bother evading. Just twisted his hips, raised a foot, and with more of that terrifying contortionist's skill, kicked me in the ass, then dropped his leg so it lay across my hips. "You're dominant because you're always thinking sixteen steps ahead. All I had to do was make that impossible for you."

"I don't think your definition and the world's definition are quite the same thing."


3. cat in the dark [ futuristic paranormal ]

Seogok smiles again, withdraws into the shadow of the imposing main gate. "What would you have longed for, on your path?"

Vrzala has to smile, in return. "Silence."

"An adult's awareness. Peace means many things. We instruct the children in one way to reach that, but not all children walk that path easily." Seogok's smile turns inward. "One person's peace may be another person's horror." He bows, the slightest tip of his chin, but then pauses as he's about to turn away. "That reminds me, of the other reason for our cats."

Vrzala stops with his finger on the car's security key, waiting.

"There is a saying, the cat may enter a monastery, but she remains a cat." Seogok shrugs, self-deprecating. "It is important to remember that children must also be children, lest we shape them into fractured adults." He bows, again, and slips away, long robes sweeping the stones as he passes.


4. sunrise [ urban fantasy ]

"I'm not American," Tetsu began, trying to stay calm. He counted to ten in four different languages, but all it did was form a background hum to her anger. "I have a life in Osaka--"

"It's a life you left, you bastard, and you are American, if you'd just get the stick out of your ass long enough to admit it," she yelled. "You're an asshole, a hypocritical asshole, you really are, you come here and you make me think--"

That was quite enough. Tetsu let go of the suitcase to make a chopping motion, cutting her off. "Don't you dare speak to me like that. I won't have my sister addressing me with such--"

He'd thought her gesture was an equal response, but when his head hit the floor, he realized it'd been a street-savvy punch from the hip. His jaw ached. He tasted blood, and Etsuko stood over his hips, fists raised like she was ready to do it again.


5. stray [ historical urban fantasy ]

"Hey, this is where you say, man, that sucks, are you doing better now?" Gio waited, but Mark didn't reply. "And then I say, well, it did suck but they've got the cutest nurses. Candy-stripers came to visit everyday." Gio paused again, had more ginger ale because it was there, and decided to just fill in Mark's share if he wasn't going to do it himself. "Really, Gio? Did you score any of them? Naw, though I could tell they wanted it, y'know. No shit, Gio, I bet you get all the girls. Yeah, well, Mark, I would, but not when I've got a fever of a hundred and something. No kidding, say, have a seat, you probably could use a sit-down after walking all the way here, and you only a week free of death's door--" He halted at the sound of Mark's muffled chuckles.

Mark scooted over on the crate, making just enough room. "Anyone ever tell you that you're just too damn persistent?"

"Sure." Gio hunkered down next to him, and for a moment couldn't breathe at the heat seeping from Mark's body. Hip-to-hip, shoulder-to-shoulder, squeezed side-by-side on the old crate, and yet the evening's chill was gone. Like curling up in a thick blanket against a radiator, but without the creaks and whistles. He drank the last of his ginger ale, and tossed the empty in the trash with a satisfying clatter. "You did, but that's about it."


6. when the butterfly catches the dragon's tail [ mythic (non)urban fantasy ]

Meg set down the tray with only the slightest clatter. The newspaper rustled in Mister Lin's hands, but he said nothing, nor did he lower it. Meg made a face at the newspaper but dutifully set out the old teapot and the single cup. She waited a few seconds, fingers twitching, and reached for the teapot. Almost instantly Mister Lin's hand was upon hers.

"You are too impatient," Mister Lin said, and lowered the paper.

He wore delicate rimless reading glasses, perched upon the tip of his nose. They might have looked grandfatherly but for the lack of silver in Mister Lin's hair, or the way the curve of metal emphasized that Mister Lin had a rather -- Meg struggled to swallow her amusement -- perky shape to the tip of his nose. None of the rest of Mister Lin remotely qualified as perky; perhaps, Meg reflected, it was Mister Lin's overwhelming stern austerity that made his nose so adorable in contrast. She blinked at him, belatedly registering he'd been awaiting her reply.

"Sorry," Meg murmured. "Still getting the hang of it. Tell you another story, while we wait, then?"

Mister Lin withdrew his hand. He set aside the paper, then cleaned his glasses fastidiously on the hem of his shirt before telling her, "I suppose you may. If this one is as short and stupid as the others you've told, I expect it won't take any longer than remains for the tea to steep."


7. the measure of desire* [ alternate history fantasy ]

"No more soup," Ed groused, and didn't sit up so much as get thrown upright by the force of the sneeze. Then came the hacking cough, and he ended up a puddle all over again, panting blearily and staring at Mustang's ceiling.

"It's not, but you still have to sit up to eat it."

Ed rubbed the compress across his face, because at least it was good for wiping off the sweat. Next, he'd start shivering. He wondered if it might be possible to get Mustang to knock him out and turn off his brain from cataloging the symptoms. No, Mustang would enjoy it far too much. Ed struggled upright and swung his feet around. "So what is it?"

"Sausage pastry." Mustang set the bowl in Ed's lap, and handed over fork and napkin, then returned in a minute with a bowl of his own, settling in on the high-backed chair opposite the sofa. "No, I didn't cook it. A friend makes this, and always makes extra for me."

Seducing girls into cooking for him, too, Ed decided. The man really was insufferable.


8. laughing creek [ sub/urban fantasy ]

“I meant,” he said, enunciating more carefully, “how is the world these days, miss?”

“More mixed up than it was last year,” she replied, her brain refusing to cooperate as she tried to comprehend the situation. A balding half-sheep man wearing an English coat wanted to hear the latest news, and all she could do was panic about the proper American etiquette for animal people. "I guess."

“Is that so,” he replied, then tsk’ed, slapping a hand lightly to the side of his head with an apologetic bow, but still speaking slowly and clearly for her. “Gracious, I’ve not offered you anything to drink. Are you hungry? Or thirsty? I think I have some biscuits…”

She demurred, recalling the stern advice: never eat or drink anything in the spirit world. Tama glanced down at her bag, uncomfortable at feeling caught between her impromptu host's obvious wish to be hospitable and her own sense of proper guest behavior. Oh, why not. She was either dreaming or going crazy, but neither was reason to be rude, and there was nothing in the rules that warned against sharing her food.




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kaigou: this is what I do, darling (Default)
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to remember

"When you make the finding yourself— even if you're the last person on Earth to see the light— you'll never forget it." —Carl Sagan

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