Marsh tipped his fedora back and winked at the pretty blonde girl leaning on the railing of the front steps.
“Hey pretty lady, wanna take a chance, make a few bucks?” He reached into his jacket pocket and drew out a deck of cards, a pair of dice. “We could do three card monty, five card draw, or maybe a little --” he rattled the dice -- “Vegas?”
She laughed, the sound musical and delicate. “What, you peddle gambling? In the middle of the school yard?”
Marsh slid closer, eased an arm around her shoulders. “If you’re looking for something a little more long-term, I can peddle you some medieval fantasy, or, if you’re into the Twilight thing, vampires.” He opened one hand with a flourish and offered up a sparkly ten-sided die.
“You’re a funny kid, Marshall Harris,” she said. “If you weren’t such a freak, I might even ask you out sometime. But you know what everyone says about you, don’t you?”
Marsh knew exactly what they said, but he smiled at her innocently, widened his eyes. “No, I don’t. What do they say?”
“They say you talk to yourself, that you’re crazy, and also, that you’re a cheat at those games.” The girl pulled away.
Marsh threw his head back and laughed. “I don’t cheat, but I don’t really have to.” He tossed the dice up, caught them midair.
“But you win obscene amounts of money from the older boys.” The girl arched an eyebrow. “No one’s that lucky.”
Marsh tipped his fedora back down and winked again. “Maybe I’m just touched by an angel.”
The girl huffed, disbelieving. “A devil, more like it.”
Marsh licked his fingertips, traced the back of one of his trick cards. The girl turned away and headed up the stairs toward the other cheerleaders, and she didn’t see a pair of wings unfurl from behind Marsh, didn’t see the slender redhead who leaned his chin on Marsh’s shoulder and sighed.
“One day you’re going to have to do something useful with your talent,” Tabris said.
“Has that day come yet?”
“Would I tell you if it had?”
“The odds are pretty good, I think.” Marsh cut the deck with one hand, fanned them neatly. “Hey Tabris, pick a card, any card.” He ignored the students who streamed past him and stared, aghast, at the boy who looked like he was talking to himself.
(402 words)
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Elise and Israfel
“So you got it.” Elise nodded at the receipt crumpled in Cody’s fist. It bore the date, time stamp, and address of a convenience store on 24th and Lake. If the news was anything to go by, someone got shot outside of that store at least once a week.
Cody pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded, jammed the receipt into his pocket. “Yeah. They’ll leave me alone now.”
“You probably should’ve made a better attempt at going incognito, you know,” Elise said. She lit a cigarette, took a deep drag.
Cody pawed at his bruised cheekbone, abashed. He’d made it almost all the way back to Dodge without incident before he’d hit an unexpected patch of light and Asrael’s protection had vanished. A couple of boys from Central High had rolled him for some of his lunch money. Too bad Cody spent more on lunch in one day than those boys spent in a week.
“I hope you know you’re a walking cliché,” he said. He eyed Elise up and down where she was perched on a tombstone, smoking a cigarette, a guitar dangling from her other hand.
“What kind of cliché?”
“The Courtney Love kind.”
Elise snorted indelicately and tossed her head. “Oh please. Are you even old enough to really know who she is?”
“I keep company with the Angel of Death,” Cody said flatly. “Wanna know what Kurt Cobain sounded like after he died?”
“You’re just bitter you didn’t get the fun angel.” Elise stubbed out her cigarette and spit on her fingertips, traced a few idle Hebrew letters on the granite of her tombstone perch, and then angel on the tombstone behind her stirred, came to life.
It unfurled its wings and stretched, tossed its head, and when it lifted its head, parted the curtain of platinum blond hair, Cody saw that it was male. Most likely. Angels were distressingly androgynous.
“Hey, Israfel,” he said.
Israfel lifted one languid hand and pushed his hair out of his face. “Hello, Nicodemus.” He stepped off the grave and crossed the grass, his feet not quite touching the ground. He stood behind Elise. “What did you need?”
“How about a little heavenly harmony?” Elise asked.
Israfel sighed and lifted his hands, and a guitar materialized from the twilight shadows. “Someday you’ll have to find a non-frivolous use for your gift.”
“One day I’m sure you’ll tell me about one,” Elise said, and drop-tuned her guitar.
Cody huffed and cast Israfel a sympathetic look. “I’m sure if you read your Bible, you’d remember how the walls of Jericho came down.”
(434 words)
Cody pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded, jammed the receipt into his pocket. “Yeah. They’ll leave me alone now.”
“You probably should’ve made a better attempt at going incognito, you know,” Elise said. She lit a cigarette, took a deep drag.
Cody pawed at his bruised cheekbone, abashed. He’d made it almost all the way back to Dodge without incident before he’d hit an unexpected patch of light and Asrael’s protection had vanished. A couple of boys from Central High had rolled him for some of his lunch money. Too bad Cody spent more on lunch in one day than those boys spent in a week.
“I hope you know you’re a walking cliché,” he said. He eyed Elise up and down where she was perched on a tombstone, smoking a cigarette, a guitar dangling from her other hand.
“What kind of cliché?”
“The Courtney Love kind.”
Elise snorted indelicately and tossed her head. “Oh please. Are you even old enough to really know who she is?”
“I keep company with the Angel of Death,” Cody said flatly. “Wanna know what Kurt Cobain sounded like after he died?”
“You’re just bitter you didn’t get the fun angel.” Elise stubbed out her cigarette and spit on her fingertips, traced a few idle Hebrew letters on the granite of her tombstone perch, and then angel on the tombstone behind her stirred, came to life.
It unfurled its wings and stretched, tossed its head, and when it lifted its head, parted the curtain of platinum blond hair, Cody saw that it was male. Most likely. Angels were distressingly androgynous.
“Hey, Israfel,” he said.
Israfel lifted one languid hand and pushed his hair out of his face. “Hello, Nicodemus.” He stepped off the grave and crossed the grass, his feet not quite touching the ground. He stood behind Elise. “What did you need?”
“How about a little heavenly harmony?” Elise asked.
Israfel sighed and lifted his hands, and a guitar materialized from the twilight shadows. “Someday you’ll have to find a non-frivolous use for your gift.”
“One day I’m sure you’ll tell me about one,” Elise said, and drop-tuned her guitar.
Cody huffed and cast Israfel a sympathetic look. “I’m sure if you read your Bible, you’d remember how the walls of Jericho came down.”
(434 words)
Over Tired
David felt his head being jerked back, as if two hands had grasped the sides of his head and pulled, bare seconds before a bullet passed through the same space his head had been occupying. A slight shift brought his gun to bear on the figure to his right and he pulled the trigger with precision accuracy, felling the last enemy soldier.
In the silence that followed the brief but intense battle, David checked in on his men. All reported clear of danger and all enemies eliminated.
David looked around but didn't see any friendlies in his area, only the corpses of the enemy and a few fallen comrades.
Confused at the sensation he had felt, David rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.
"I must be over tired," he thought to himself as he went to find his men in the labyrinth of rooms and corridors.
In the silence that followed the brief but intense battle, David checked in on his men. All reported clear of danger and all enemies eliminated.
David looked around but didn't see any friendlies in his area, only the corpses of the enemy and a few fallen comrades.
Confused at the sensation he had felt, David rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.
"I must be over tired," he thought to himself as he went to find his men in the labyrinth of rooms and corridors.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Cody and Asrael
Cody had heard things about the North side of Omaha, but a dare was a dare, and he could make it from Dodge to Lake without getting hurt. He was sure of it. He wouldn’t tell the others how he was sure, but he was, and when he showed up at school the next day with proof of his victory, they would have to stop harassing him in the locker room and giving him swirlies.
He pushed his glasses higher on his nose, tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, and started walking.
He was just passing Burt Street when he sensed it, two people on his tail. He did just like in the movies and paused to check his reflection in a shop window, and he saw them, two teenagers dressed in heavy parkas, beanies pulled low over their brows. In retrospect, Cody probably shouldn’t have been wearing his school uniform, because he looked decidedly out of place and an obvious target to boot, but he wasn’t afraid. Not yet, anyway.
He could still see shadows crawling along the edges of the pavement, places where people had died. A little girl in the crossfire of a gang shoot. An old man mowed down by a drunk driver. A middle-aged woman who had a heart attack for no reason. These streets were riddled with death, no better or worse than the streets where Cody lived out west, but there was more energy here.
Just when Cody sensed the two boys getting too close, he knelt and made like he was tying his shoelaces. He sketched a few letters in Hebrew in the snow, spat on his fingertips for life-ink. Any moment now, the boys would be upon them.
Just in time to see a shadow clad in red unfurl its wings and wield its flaming sword.
“Don’t you think this is a bit overdone, Nicodemus?” Asrael asked.
“You don’t have to take their souls,” Cody said. “Just keep them off my back until I get what I need.”
“You know, Seraph-voiced are rare and precious souls. Most don’t use their gift for such petty pursuits.” Asrael swung the sword a few times anyway, and the two thugs scattered.
No one else on the street saw what they saw.
“Yes, well, you refuse to stop the bullies at school, so I’m taking matters into my own hands,” Cody said matter-of-factly. He pushed his glasses up his nose and watched his would-be attackers beat a hasty retreat.
“They’ll be back, possibly with more friends,” Asrael said.
Cody nodded. “I know. Until then, I’ll just keep walking.”
Asrael sighed and melted into the shadows, but not without a faint, “I’ll be here if you need me.”
(459 words)
He pushed his glasses higher on his nose, tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, and started walking.
He was just passing Burt Street when he sensed it, two people on his tail. He did just like in the movies and paused to check his reflection in a shop window, and he saw them, two teenagers dressed in heavy parkas, beanies pulled low over their brows. In retrospect, Cody probably shouldn’t have been wearing his school uniform, because he looked decidedly out of place and an obvious target to boot, but he wasn’t afraid. Not yet, anyway.
He could still see shadows crawling along the edges of the pavement, places where people had died. A little girl in the crossfire of a gang shoot. An old man mowed down by a drunk driver. A middle-aged woman who had a heart attack for no reason. These streets were riddled with death, no better or worse than the streets where Cody lived out west, but there was more energy here.
Just when Cody sensed the two boys getting too close, he knelt and made like he was tying his shoelaces. He sketched a few letters in Hebrew in the snow, spat on his fingertips for life-ink. Any moment now, the boys would be upon them.
Just in time to see a shadow clad in red unfurl its wings and wield its flaming sword.
“Don’t you think this is a bit overdone, Nicodemus?” Asrael asked.
“You don’t have to take their souls,” Cody said. “Just keep them off my back until I get what I need.”
“You know, Seraph-voiced are rare and precious souls. Most don’t use their gift for such petty pursuits.” Asrael swung the sword a few times anyway, and the two thugs scattered.
No one else on the street saw what they saw.
“Yes, well, you refuse to stop the bullies at school, so I’m taking matters into my own hands,” Cody said matter-of-factly. He pushed his glasses up his nose and watched his would-be attackers beat a hasty retreat.
“They’ll be back, possibly with more friends,” Asrael said.
Cody nodded. “I know. Until then, I’ll just keep walking.”
Asrael sighed and melted into the shadows, but not without a faint, “I’ll be here if you need me.”
(459 words)
Stopped Believing
"So what you're telling me is that everyone has a guardian spirit? A magic being that looks out for you? Protects you?" David asked with sarcasm.
John didn't bat an eyelash at the younger mans scorn, "yes. That's what I'm saying."
David snorted in derision as he continued to clean his M16, "so why is it that nobody seems to know of these spirits? Whey is there no evidence that they exist."
"Believe what you want," John said, "but it's true."
"Then where was her spirit?" David spat out in anger, "where was this great being when she was being killed? HUH?" David's voice was rising, "Where was this all powerful spirit and why didn't it save her?"
John looked at David calmly, "those that have eyes to see," he said quietly. "You can't see God, but people still believe he is there.
David looked away, almost in shame, "I stopped believing in him a long time ago too. Just like your fairies and spirits, unicorns and pots of gold at the rainbows end."
"Those days are long dead," David said as he turned to go.
(okay, so this week will be non cannon and it will probably encompass David's realization that there is in fact magic in the world.)
John didn't bat an eyelash at the younger mans scorn, "yes. That's what I'm saying."
David snorted in derision as he continued to clean his M16, "so why is it that nobody seems to know of these spirits? Whey is there no evidence that they exist."
"Believe what you want," John said, "but it's true."
"Then where was her spirit?" David spat out in anger, "where was this great being when she was being killed? HUH?" David's voice was rising, "Where was this all powerful spirit and why didn't it save her?"
John looked at David calmly, "those that have eyes to see," he said quietly. "You can't see God, but people still believe he is there.
David looked away, almost in shame, "I stopped believing in him a long time ago too. Just like your fairies and spirits, unicorns and pots of gold at the rainbows end."
"Those days are long dead," David said as he turned to go.
(okay, so this week will be non cannon and it will probably encompass David's realization that there is in fact magic in the world.)
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Project #55: Urban Fantasy
I like genre challenges and I think there should be more of them. If you could sketch an urban fantasy world in six days, what would it be like? Would there be fairies who run the computers? Or shadow knights who stalk the sewers? Who would be normal and mundane, and what would set the fantastical people apart? What city would have unspoken secrets that open with a smear of blood or the whisper of a rune? Give it a shot. 100-500 words. Good luck in the new semester!
Overview #54: Dancing
So I totally slacked off on all kinds of writing over the holidays. Nevertheless, it was fun to write about dancing, especially so I could get back into touch with who danced and what kind of dancing they did. Also, I just love dancing, so it was fun to picture happy scenes with people dancing. It was interesting to learn that, even though all of the boys in Sector Five are capable of dancing, not all of them even like to dance. I don't know that what I wrote was always substantive toward plot or character, but I enjoy finding new ways to explore characters. Here's to more steady writing in the coming semester!
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Clockwork and Poetry
“Who’s that?” one of the supermodels asked.
“Who do you mean?” DJ glanced up from where he was wiping down the bar with broad, easy strokes.
The redhead pointed to a figure standing in the shadows. He wore a white suit and had a white fedora tipped at a jaunty angle.
“He looks like an old-fashioned mobster, like Al Capone or something.” The brunette giggled.
“I have it on good authority that Al Capone wasn’t actually good-looking,” DJ said mildly. “If you like him, ask him to dance.”
The blonde tossed her head. “No. We don’t ask boys to dance. They ask us to dance.”
As if on cue, Asia materialized from the crowd, and she offered her hand to the boy. In one pass of the strobe lights, DJ saw his face. Tobias. Of course. Gabriel must have had a hand in it, then, that the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies came over the speakers. A crowd cleared, and then Tobias stepped into the spotlight. He guided Asia with sure hands and steady feet. Usually, he was one of the more graceless ones on the team, but something magical happened on the dancefloor, and then he moved like old-fashioned clockwork and speakeasy poetry.
The three supermodels gaped as Tobias spun Asia across the floor.
“Can any of you dance like that?” DJ asked.
They shook their heads.
“Shame,” DJ said. “I’m sure he’d have taught you how.”
(239 words)
“Who do you mean?” DJ glanced up from where he was wiping down the bar with broad, easy strokes.
The redhead pointed to a figure standing in the shadows. He wore a white suit and had a white fedora tipped at a jaunty angle.
“He looks like an old-fashioned mobster, like Al Capone or something.” The brunette giggled.
“I have it on good authority that Al Capone wasn’t actually good-looking,” DJ said mildly. “If you like him, ask him to dance.”
The blonde tossed her head. “No. We don’t ask boys to dance. They ask us to dance.”
As if on cue, Asia materialized from the crowd, and she offered her hand to the boy. In one pass of the strobe lights, DJ saw his face. Tobias. Of course. Gabriel must have had a hand in it, then, that the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies came over the speakers. A crowd cleared, and then Tobias stepped into the spotlight. He guided Asia with sure hands and steady feet. Usually, he was one of the more graceless ones on the team, but something magical happened on the dancefloor, and then he moved like old-fashioned clockwork and speakeasy poetry.
The three supermodels gaped as Tobias spun Asia across the floor.
“Can any of you dance like that?” DJ asked.
They shook their heads.
“Shame,” DJ said. “I’m sure he’d have taught you how.”
(239 words)
Friday, January 8, 2010
Strike Back
When DJ moved, it was like a dance. Celia couldn’t deny that she loved to watch him work his way through his forms. Her motivation was partially shallow, as he was shirtless for the entire exercise. But the way he transitioned from motion to motion, smooth like water - she was quite sure that if she set it to music, it would look like a veritable dance.
The smooth slide of muscle beneath skin as he shifted from block to strike, the poise and balance and grace; it was hard to believe that when he picked up the pace and was against an opponent what resulted was harsh and destructive, like a dissonant tone in a chord gone wrong.
Sometimes Celia wondered if he would ever dance with her.
And then, two nights later, Dragon and Seal squared off in an empty lot. Dragon’s blue eyes gleamed, and when Seal leapt at him, he slid to the side, smooth, graceful. Seal turned and bowed to him, the gesture mocking.
“May I have this dance?” she asked.
Her friends hooted.
Dragon answered with a flurry of lightning-fast punches.
So this was the best dance she would get. She would take it. She struck back.
(203 words)
The smooth slide of muscle beneath skin as he shifted from block to strike, the poise and balance and grace; it was hard to believe that when he picked up the pace and was against an opponent what resulted was harsh and destructive, like a dissonant tone in a chord gone wrong.
Sometimes Celia wondered if he would ever dance with her.
And then, two nights later, Dragon and Seal squared off in an empty lot. Dragon’s blue eyes gleamed, and when Seal leapt at him, he slid to the side, smooth, graceful. Seal turned and bowed to him, the gesture mocking.
“May I have this dance?” she asked.
Her friends hooted.
Dragon answered with a flurry of lightning-fast punches.
So this was the best dance she would get. She would take it. She struck back.
(203 words)
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Break Out
“You don’t look very impressed,” Amy said. She and Gabriel were in the library, peering out the window down to the street corner where some boys had laid out a linoleum and were showing off acrobatic tricks, spinning on their heads and flipping, tumbling, popping and locking.
“I used to dance like that,” Gabriel said. “Before they put me in here.”
“Do you still do it?” Amy peered at him, curious.
Gabriel wasn’t sure why he was even talking to her. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m in here. They don’t let us have real lives in here. Why else?” he snapped.
Amy shrugged, her shoulders hunched, a little defensive, and Gabriel felt a brief pang of guilt for being so rude.
“It’s just - some people lose things. In the experiments.” She turned her face up to his once more, and Gabriel was startled at how bright her eyes were. Golden. Could people really have eyes that color?
“What do you mean?”
“Like - Jenny used to be able to play piano. And sometimes - sometimes, after a long session in the iso tank I can’t tell time. I didn’t know if you’d lost something, going in there too. It’s just the two of us who go in there, see,” Amy said.
Gabriel watched the group of boys move in synch with each other and decided that he might break out, just for the day, so he could dance again.
(237 words)
“I used to dance like that,” Gabriel said. “Before they put me in here.”
“Do you still do it?” Amy peered at him, curious.
Gabriel wasn’t sure why he was even talking to her. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m in here. They don’t let us have real lives in here. Why else?” he snapped.
Amy shrugged, her shoulders hunched, a little defensive, and Gabriel felt a brief pang of guilt for being so rude.
“It’s just - some people lose things. In the experiments.” She turned her face up to his once more, and Gabriel was startled at how bright her eyes were. Golden. Could people really have eyes that color?
“What do you mean?”
“Like - Jenny used to be able to play piano. And sometimes - sometimes, after a long session in the iso tank I can’t tell time. I didn’t know if you’d lost something, going in there too. It’s just the two of us who go in there, see,” Amy said.
Gabriel watched the group of boys move in synch with each other and decided that he might break out, just for the day, so he could dance again.
(237 words)
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
There but not There
"Just go through the forms and you will be fine," Alec said as he patted Joe in the shoulder.
Joe straitened his ghee nervously, "what if I forget something?"
"How long have you been practicing this?"
"A long time."
"You know what to do. Now do it."
Joe took a deep breath and stepped out onto the mats to begin his trials.
"It was perfect," Alec said as Joe stepped off the mat, "It looked like a dance."
"Thanks Alec," Joe whispered and turned to look his brother that was no longer there. Only the memory and the feeling were there.
"Thanks Alec," Joe said again softly.
Joe straitened his ghee nervously, "what if I forget something?"
"How long have you been practicing this?"
"A long time."
"You know what to do. Now do it."
Joe took a deep breath and stepped out onto the mats to begin his trials.
"It was perfect," Alec said as Joe stepped off the mat, "It looked like a dance."
"Thanks Alec," Joe whispered and turned to look his brother that was no longer there. Only the memory and the feeling were there.
"Thanks Alec," Joe said again softly.
Can You Count to Three?
“I refuse,” Keith said. He crossed his arms over his chest and dared one of the other lads to oppose him.
“Look, old lady McConnell’s just going to make you. Might as well get it over with,” Ste said. He shot Duffy and Shannon pleading looks.
Shannon sighed impatiently. “Look, get out there and do it, and then one of us will follow.”
“How do I know that you won’t hang me out to dry? I won’t be the only one out there making a fool of myself,” Keith said. “If you’re so eager to dance, you pick partners.”
The other three exchanged helpless glances.
Keith started when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around and saw the new girl - Hannah or Holly or something - standing behind him. She studied him with solemn golden eyes. Then she broke into a wide grin.
“Heya, fancy a waltz?”
Keith said, “No.”
She tugged on his wrist. “That’s too bad. I’m not botching P.E. because you’re not man enough to step up and make the grade. Now waltz with me.”
“I don’t know how,” Keith protested.
“Can you count to three?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can waltz. On one...”
(198 words)
“Look, old lady McConnell’s just going to make you. Might as well get it over with,” Ste said. He shot Duffy and Shannon pleading looks.
Shannon sighed impatiently. “Look, get out there and do it, and then one of us will follow.”
“How do I know that you won’t hang me out to dry? I won’t be the only one out there making a fool of myself,” Keith said. “If you’re so eager to dance, you pick partners.”
The other three exchanged helpless glances.
Keith started when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around and saw the new girl - Hannah or Holly or something - standing behind him. She studied him with solemn golden eyes. Then she broke into a wide grin.
“Heya, fancy a waltz?”
Keith said, “No.”
She tugged on his wrist. “That’s too bad. I’m not botching P.E. because you’re not man enough to step up and make the grade. Now waltz with me.”
“I don’t know how,” Keith protested.
“Can you count to three?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can waltz. On one...”
(198 words)
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
All A Man Can Ask For
“Do you tango?” Angel asked.
Dani started and almost spilled her drink down the front of her dress. “Pardon?” She blinked at him over the top of a volume of Millay.
Angel smiled and offered a hand. “Tango. Will you?”
“With you?”
“I’d prefer if it were with me, but I’m sure if I were to step away, another man would ask in my place,” Angel said.
Dani looked flustered. Angel knew he was taking a risk, dancing with the Padrino’s daughter, but something about her sweet, bookwormish charm had caught his eye while he was in the Padrino’s house, and it had been a while since Angel had had decent conversation with a girl.
Girls in this era were finally starting to become educated and speak their minds again, and Angel had missed it something fierce. Of course, Dakshana had taken off right when Angel might have valued her company, but then they both had jobs to do, and Angel was here, doing his.
Right now, his job was to dance.
Dani accepted his hand. “I can try,” she said.
Angel pulled her into his arms. “That’s all a man can ask for.”
(194 words)
Dani started and almost spilled her drink down the front of her dress. “Pardon?” She blinked at him over the top of a volume of Millay.
Angel smiled and offered a hand. “Tango. Will you?”
“With you?”
“I’d prefer if it were with me, but I’m sure if I were to step away, another man would ask in my place,” Angel said.
Dani looked flustered. Angel knew he was taking a risk, dancing with the Padrino’s daughter, but something about her sweet, bookwormish charm had caught his eye while he was in the Padrino’s house, and it had been a while since Angel had had decent conversation with a girl.
Girls in this era were finally starting to become educated and speak their minds again, and Angel had missed it something fierce. Of course, Dakshana had taken off right when Angel might have valued her company, but then they both had jobs to do, and Angel was here, doing his.
Right now, his job was to dance.
Dani accepted his hand. “I can try,” she said.
Angel pulled her into his arms. “That’s all a man can ask for.”
(194 words)
Sturdier Shoes
“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Christian grumbled.
“I didn’t talk you into it. You let yourself be convinced.” Anna straightened his tabard with deft hands. “Now get out there and be charming and win some more land for your father.”
“You’re distressingly amused by the thought of me marrying Lady Vivian.” Christian brushed a piece of imaginary lint from his shoulder.
“Yes, well, she’s a lady, you’re a lord, she has lots of land, what more can your father ask for?”
“Me to be happy.”
“Your brother Ranolfe was happy, and look where it got him? Dead.” Anna stood back and gave him one last once-over. “Time to go dance.”
“But I’m terrible at dancing,” Christian protested.
“Nonsense. You’re a swordsman and full of smooth, dancing grace. Don’t forget that the left turn is on the offbeat.” Anna smiled and pushed him out from behind the tapestries that hid the servants from view.
Halfway through the first song, Lady Vivian learned, up close and personally what on the offbeat meant. To Christian, it meant nothing to do with anything his tutors - or Anna - had taught him. From the sidelines, Anna mused that proper ladies should have learned to wear much sturdier shoes by now.
(208 words)
“I didn’t talk you into it. You let yourself be convinced.” Anna straightened his tabard with deft hands. “Now get out there and be charming and win some more land for your father.”
“You’re distressingly amused by the thought of me marrying Lady Vivian.” Christian brushed a piece of imaginary lint from his shoulder.
“Yes, well, she’s a lady, you’re a lord, she has lots of land, what more can your father ask for?”
“Me to be happy.”
“Your brother Ranolfe was happy, and look where it got him? Dead.” Anna stood back and gave him one last once-over. “Time to go dance.”
“But I’m terrible at dancing,” Christian protested.
“Nonsense. You’re a swordsman and full of smooth, dancing grace. Don’t forget that the left turn is on the offbeat.” Anna smiled and pushed him out from behind the tapestries that hid the servants from view.
Halfway through the first song, Lady Vivian learned, up close and personally what on the offbeat meant. To Christian, it meant nothing to do with anything his tutors - or Anna - had taught him. From the sidelines, Anna mused that proper ladies should have learned to wear much sturdier shoes by now.
(208 words)
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Abuse of Modly Powers
Here it is, another abuse of the modpost. Apparently the holidays derailed all of us, so we will continue this challenge through to the next week. Until then, keep on writing, and keep your characters on dancing!
Monday, December 28, 2009
The Club Twitch
“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Riley said.
James grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right. Just - knock back a few shots of tequila and get out there. Shake your skinny arse to the beat.”
Riley pressed his lips into a thin line. “You really know how to build a man’s self-esteem.”
“The ladies love you and you know it,” James said. “C’mon - admit it. You’ve heard them coo all over you during episode screenings. And during interviews. You’re Riley Finn - they think you’re the cutest thing since puppies and bunnies.”
“Adorable does not equal sexy or - or a good dancer,” Riley said.
James shoved him toward the dance floor. “Go, go!”
Riley ducked his head and sighed, loped into the crowd of writhing bodies. As soon as he was out of James’s sight, he ducked off the dance floor and toward where Serena and Fiona were waiting.
“He’s here, then?” Fiona asked.
Riley nodded. “Yeah. I played nervous a bit, let him give me a good talking to, and so now he’ll be keeping an eye on the dancefloor to watch me make a fool of myself.”
“Good.” Serena nodded decisively. “Any moment now, Asia will be here. She promised us a demonstration of her dancing skills if we could find sufficient music. According to one of the make-up girls, Shakira is a perfectly acceptable substitute for traditional tribal music.”
As if on cue, Asia materialized from the crowd. “We have an agreement, yes? If I get out there and do one solo number, you have to join me on the next one.” She swiveled her hips and cast Serena and Fiona meaningful looks.
“An agreement?” Riley asked. “I know of no agreement.”
Asia smiled at him. “I didn’t realize you’d be here tonight. Didn’t Fiona and Serena tell you? They want to learn how to belly dance. I told them I’d teach them, but they said they refused to subscribe until I demonstrated my skills.”
“I didn’t realize you could do anything but the usual club twitch like the rest of us,” Riley said. “Isn’t bellydancing a bit...feminine for a girl who swings swords for a living?”
“Don’t make me punch you,” Asia said dryly. “Are you game, ladies?”
“We’re game,” Fiona said. “In fact, here comes your music right now.”
And Shakira poured from the speakers. Asia rolled her eyes. “In a place like this, I reckon this is the best you could get. Out to the dancefloor I go.”
“No one’s going to see you in that crowd - you’re too short,” Fiona said. She craned her neck.
Asia grinned. “I’ll clear a space. Just wait and see.” She started into the crowd.
Riley grinned. “I’m going to go stand by James. If I can get a shot on my camera, I will - the look on his face will be classic.”
It was.
(485 words)
James grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right. Just - knock back a few shots of tequila and get out there. Shake your skinny arse to the beat.”
Riley pressed his lips into a thin line. “You really know how to build a man’s self-esteem.”
“The ladies love you and you know it,” James said. “C’mon - admit it. You’ve heard them coo all over you during episode screenings. And during interviews. You’re Riley Finn - they think you’re the cutest thing since puppies and bunnies.”
“Adorable does not equal sexy or - or a good dancer,” Riley said.
James shoved him toward the dance floor. “Go, go!”
Riley ducked his head and sighed, loped into the crowd of writhing bodies. As soon as he was out of James’s sight, he ducked off the dance floor and toward where Serena and Fiona were waiting.
“He’s here, then?” Fiona asked.
Riley nodded. “Yeah. I played nervous a bit, let him give me a good talking to, and so now he’ll be keeping an eye on the dancefloor to watch me make a fool of myself.”
“Good.” Serena nodded decisively. “Any moment now, Asia will be here. She promised us a demonstration of her dancing skills if we could find sufficient music. According to one of the make-up girls, Shakira is a perfectly acceptable substitute for traditional tribal music.”
As if on cue, Asia materialized from the crowd. “We have an agreement, yes? If I get out there and do one solo number, you have to join me on the next one.” She swiveled her hips and cast Serena and Fiona meaningful looks.
“An agreement?” Riley asked. “I know of no agreement.”
Asia smiled at him. “I didn’t realize you’d be here tonight. Didn’t Fiona and Serena tell you? They want to learn how to belly dance. I told them I’d teach them, but they said they refused to subscribe until I demonstrated my skills.”
“I didn’t realize you could do anything but the usual club twitch like the rest of us,” Riley said. “Isn’t bellydancing a bit...feminine for a girl who swings swords for a living?”
“Don’t make me punch you,” Asia said dryly. “Are you game, ladies?”
“We’re game,” Fiona said. “In fact, here comes your music right now.”
And Shakira poured from the speakers. Asia rolled her eyes. “In a place like this, I reckon this is the best you could get. Out to the dancefloor I go.”
“No one’s going to see you in that crowd - you’re too short,” Fiona said. She craned her neck.
Asia grinned. “I’ll clear a space. Just wait and see.” She started into the crowd.
Riley grinned. “I’m going to go stand by James. If I can get a shot on my camera, I will - the look on his face will be classic.”
It was.
(485 words)
Night Out
Bryan's feet were twitching as soon as he got out of the car. He couldn't hear the music yet, but he could feel the vibrations in the cement beneath his feet, could feel it echoing in his body, thumping in time to his heartbeat.
The doormen smiled and waved him through as he approached the door, bypassing all the people still waiting in line. Bryan stepped from the dark night into a twilight; strobe lights only partly illuminated the large room that was filled to almost overflowing with people. A heavy beat was rocking through the room, he could feel it in the core of his bones. Bryan let his eyes slide closed as he nodded his head to the beat; felt his body begin to move, rocking in time to the music.
Bryan's eyes snapped open and he flowed onto the dance floor, moving with perfect precision between all the other dancers, his body moving sinuously. He paused now and then to dance with a not so pretty girl, spinning her around the floor before returning her to where they started. He smiled slyly and kissed their hands before slipping away into the crowds.
Bryan found himself near one of the platforms that people used to display their dancing skills. He grinned as he jumped up on the small stage and whipped off his shirt. He was dimly aware of the cheers that met this action as he showed off his tightly muscled core and sharply defined arms, but most of his mind was lost in the music. Bryan let his eyes close again and let his body move to the beat, not paying attention to how he looked or what he did.
After he was finished dancing Bryan jumped down from the stage only to find his shirt gone. He looked briefly around, then shrugged and walked towards the door.
"Hey Bryan, loose your shirt again?" John as he waved a couple more people through the doors.
Bryan shrugged again, "Guess I did," he said and grinned before dancing out into the night.
The doormen smiled and waved him through as he approached the door, bypassing all the people still waiting in line. Bryan stepped from the dark night into a twilight; strobe lights only partly illuminated the large room that was filled to almost overflowing with people. A heavy beat was rocking through the room, he could feel it in the core of his bones. Bryan let his eyes slide closed as he nodded his head to the beat; felt his body begin to move, rocking in time to the music.
Bryan's eyes snapped open and he flowed onto the dance floor, moving with perfect precision between all the other dancers, his body moving sinuously. He paused now and then to dance with a not so pretty girl, spinning her around the floor before returning her to where they started. He smiled slyly and kissed their hands before slipping away into the crowds.
Bryan found himself near one of the platforms that people used to display their dancing skills. He grinned as he jumped up on the small stage and whipped off his shirt. He was dimly aware of the cheers that met this action as he showed off his tightly muscled core and sharply defined arms, but most of his mind was lost in the music. Bryan let his eyes close again and let his body move to the beat, not paying attention to how he looked or what he did.
After he was finished dancing Bryan jumped down from the stage only to find his shirt gone. He looked briefly around, then shrugged and walked towards the door.
"Hey Bryan, loose your shirt again?" John as he waved a couple more people through the doors.
Bryan shrugged again, "Guess I did," he said and grinned before dancing out into the night.
Project Assignment # 54 - Dancing
Take your characters dancing. Do they dance alone or do they club? Do they never dance or are they always dancing?
Max 500
Max 500
Overview #53: Resolutions
At first I thought this would be easy, but then I realized it might border on painfully repetitive. After all, New Year's resolutions are made at new year, which meant all my stories would be set at the same time, and that seemed kinda lame. I tried switching up universes to give things a little variety, and I think combining Riley's birthday wish with Asia's new year's resolution was a nice touch. Possibly the best thing that came out of this week is that I finally came up with a decent end to the Carolyn-verse. That made me very, very happy. The juxtaposition of Bob's new year's resolutions when he's fresh off the end of his relationship with Carolyn to Carolyn's resolutions after she's married Bob were pretty powerful (or so I like to think), and even though this is a fractured universe, it's one that, in its fractured state, is done. I suspect that sometime down the road I'll come through and finish it off properly, like the fractured universe I started in high school. Maybe that's what I'm doomed to do - write fractured universes left and right and let them simmer before I come back to them years later.
This is precisely the sort of writing revelation that M&M is meant to inspire.
A few finishing notes on the Carolyn-verse: in my head, the story ends like this - Bob and Carolyn get married. Carolyn continues working as a lawyer, but she retires from heavy business litigation and becomes an estate planner. Bob goes back to school and gets his teaching degree and ends up teaching English at some nice school in the south, probably Tennessee because that's where Clay is working and recording still (after an unsuccessful gander at Hollywood). Dan and Joey stay up in Calgary and Dan eventually works his way up to detective. Scott gets engaged to a girl but then breaks it off when she cheats on him, and he still works as an EMT, though he continues to write music with his brothers and on his own. Thanksgiving is always at Shelley and Dinah's, and Kevin is usually invited. The boys spend Christmases with their own families, but once in a blue moon John crashes Carolyn and Bob's Christmas. Scott ends up marrying Carolyn's law school friend Melanie.
I guess, for once, this one ends happily ever after.
Sometimes John still has to shoot people to keep Bob alive.
This is precisely the sort of writing revelation that M&M is meant to inspire.
A few finishing notes on the Carolyn-verse: in my head, the story ends like this - Bob and Carolyn get married. Carolyn continues working as a lawyer, but she retires from heavy business litigation and becomes an estate planner. Bob goes back to school and gets his teaching degree and ends up teaching English at some nice school in the south, probably Tennessee because that's where Clay is working and recording still (after an unsuccessful gander at Hollywood). Dan and Joey stay up in Calgary and Dan eventually works his way up to detective. Scott gets engaged to a girl but then breaks it off when she cheats on him, and he still works as an EMT, though he continues to write music with his brothers and on his own. Thanksgiving is always at Shelley and Dinah's, and Kevin is usually invited. The boys spend Christmases with their own families, but once in a blue moon John crashes Carolyn and Bob's Christmas. Scott ends up marrying Carolyn's law school friend Melanie.
I guess, for once, this one ends happily ever after.
Sometimes John still has to shoot people to keep Bob alive.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Big Plans
Carolyn sat on the roof and waited for fireworks to light up the sky. Ten minutes before the show was set to start, Bob scrambled up the ladder and skimmed across the tiles to sit beside her. He was armed with a thermos and two mugs.
“Hot cocoa?” He smiled at her.
“Please.”
Once the hot cocoa was poured, Bob and Carolyn leaned into each other and clutched their mugs to absorb some of the warmth.
“Aren’t the others coming?” Carolyn asked.
“Joey hates the cold, so Dan’s trying to work his silver-tongued magic,” Bob said. “Scott and Clay will be here before too long. They’re probably trying to give us privacy or something.”
Carolyn pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and laughed. “Even after all these years, they’re still bashful about catching us kissing. They never actually caught us in flagrante delicto, you know. I don’t know what they’re so worried about.”
“I’m sure they’re just being polite,” Bob said. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “So, what are your big plans for the new year?”
To not think about the past, Carolyn thought. To be able to close my eyes and dream of something other than felled bodies and blood on my hands. To wake without a lie on my lips. She said, “To remember to answer to Mrs. Summers.”
Just as Clay and Scott made it up the ladder, Bob leaned in and kissed her.
(243 words)
“Hot cocoa?” He smiled at her.
“Please.”
Once the hot cocoa was poured, Bob and Carolyn leaned into each other and clutched their mugs to absorb some of the warmth.
“Aren’t the others coming?” Carolyn asked.
“Joey hates the cold, so Dan’s trying to work his silver-tongued magic,” Bob said. “Scott and Clay will be here before too long. They’re probably trying to give us privacy or something.”
Carolyn pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and laughed. “Even after all these years, they’re still bashful about catching us kissing. They never actually caught us in flagrante delicto, you know. I don’t know what they’re so worried about.”
“I’m sure they’re just being polite,” Bob said. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “So, what are your big plans for the new year?”
To not think about the past, Carolyn thought. To be able to close my eyes and dream of something other than felled bodies and blood on my hands. To wake without a lie on my lips. She said, “To remember to answer to Mrs. Summers.”
Just as Clay and Scott made it up the ladder, Bob leaned in and kissed her.
(243 words)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)