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auburnnothenna: If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or NaNoWriMo or what have you, post exactly one sentence (or more) from each of your current work(s) in progress. 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).
For Out Of Bounds:
The phone in the Olympic village room didn't often ring, so Rodney's coach already had a slack-jawed look of surprise before he answered it. The name on the other end left him puzzled.
"Mr. McKay?" he answered.
He was silent, then shook his head with a quick reassuring gesture the older McKay couldn't see. "Amsterdam? No, Rodney is here," he said with assured patience, standing straighter, one hand on his hip, "his practice was just this--"
Interrupted, he nodded fervently like any man who knew who paid the bills. "Yes, yes, I realize he's my responsibility… the news? Airport bar?" He switched the phone to his other ear. "You're kidding. Yes, Mr. McKa—I assure you, I had no idea. He was right here. I'll—I'll see to it. Of course he's grounded. Yes, sir, thank you for informing me."
He'd just hung up when Rodney came in, head down. He held up a tired hand. "Don't talk to me right now, I've had a very bad day."
"Just what the H.—E.—double-hockeysticks are you doing?! Why do you think you're even here?" He sounded more betrayed than angry.
Rodney goggled at him, lips parted. "But I might not get another chance."
For the as yet unnamed John-Screws-Up fic:
The atmosphere on Atlantis was jovial and alive with rumor, soft laughter in the halls and impromptu coffee break conferences over Ancient equipment. After being together over two years, the Atlantis crew was worse than most Air Force bases. It was a terrible thing when soldiers knew their commander well enough to understand which orders they had to follow and which ones he only wished they would, and unfortunately, Major Lorne's team was well beyond that point.
Outside the infirmary, Dr. Beckett was cautious; he raised a forestalling hand to one of his nurses. "For my part, I would have to see the DNA evidence. Though I will admit, in a population of redheads, a dark-haired child suggests some outside genetic material as dark hair is most certainly not a recessive trait…."
Low male laughter boomed from the mess hall as many soldiers ceased to even pretend to work. Routine diagnostics took twice as long and four times as many people as usual. Meanwhile, gateroom staff on duty the night Lorne's team returned were in high demand, called on to describe the look on Lorne's face over and over again.
In the labs, Rodney's sharp voice finally rose above the buzzing murmur. He stood on a chair and clapped his hands several times.
"Yes, I'm sure Colonel Sheppard's sex life is endlessly fascinating," he griped, "but I expect some work done around here, people! Unless you have all finished translating the entire Ancient database, in which case, congratulations."
Continuation of Last Port Of Call:
Unfortunately, Rodney had never really perfected the, you know, up and down look, where you glanced over a woman and pretended to be gazing off into the distance. He’d always get lost somewhere between the cleavage and the hips, whichever she had in most abundance, his mouth falling open until by the time he looked back up her body, he’d meet a disdainful glare... 90%... 97%... okay, pretty much 100% of the time. He operated at disadvantage from that point onward.
auburnnothenna: If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or NaNoWriMo or what have you, post exactly one sentence (or more) from each of your current work(s) in progress. 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).For Out Of Bounds:
The phone in the Olympic village room didn't often ring, so Rodney's coach already had a slack-jawed look of surprise before he answered it. The name on the other end left him puzzled.
"Mr. McKay?" he answered.
He was silent, then shook his head with a quick reassuring gesture the older McKay couldn't see. "Amsterdam? No, Rodney is here," he said with assured patience, standing straighter, one hand on his hip, "his practice was just this--"
Interrupted, he nodded fervently like any man who knew who paid the bills. "Yes, yes, I realize he's my responsibility… the news? Airport bar?" He switched the phone to his other ear. "You're kidding. Yes, Mr. McKa—I assure you, I had no idea. He was right here. I'll—I'll see to it. Of course he's grounded. Yes, sir, thank you for informing me."
He'd just hung up when Rodney came in, head down. He held up a tired hand. "Don't talk to me right now, I've had a very bad day."
"Just what the H.—E.—double-hockeysticks are you doing?! Why do you think you're even here?" He sounded more betrayed than angry.
Rodney goggled at him, lips parted. "But I might not get another chance."
For the as yet unnamed John-Screws-Up fic:
The atmosphere on Atlantis was jovial and alive with rumor, soft laughter in the halls and impromptu coffee break conferences over Ancient equipment. After being together over two years, the Atlantis crew was worse than most Air Force bases. It was a terrible thing when soldiers knew their commander well enough to understand which orders they had to follow and which ones he only wished they would, and unfortunately, Major Lorne's team was well beyond that point.
Outside the infirmary, Dr. Beckett was cautious; he raised a forestalling hand to one of his nurses. "For my part, I would have to see the DNA evidence. Though I will admit, in a population of redheads, a dark-haired child suggests some outside genetic material as dark hair is most certainly not a recessive trait…."
Low male laughter boomed from the mess hall as many soldiers ceased to even pretend to work. Routine diagnostics took twice as long and four times as many people as usual. Meanwhile, gateroom staff on duty the night Lorne's team returned were in high demand, called on to describe the look on Lorne's face over and over again.
In the labs, Rodney's sharp voice finally rose above the buzzing murmur. He stood on a chair and clapped his hands several times.
"Yes, I'm sure Colonel Sheppard's sex life is endlessly fascinating," he griped, "but I expect some work done around here, people! Unless you have all finished translating the entire Ancient database, in which case, congratulations."
Continuation of Last Port Of Call:
Unfortunately, Rodney had never really perfected the, you know, up and down look, where you glanced over a woman and pretended to be gazing off into the distance. He’d always get lost somewhere between the cleavage and the hips, whichever she had in most abundance, his mouth falling open until by the time he looked back up her body, he’d meet a disdainful glare... 90%... 97%... okay, pretty much 100% of the time. He operated at disadvantage from that point onward.
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no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 05:40 am (UTC)As well as endlessly amused by Rodney. Endlessly I say :)
Um, won't give you the long response :)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 06:01 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 06:52 am (UTC)And you're writing the LPoC sequel. Rodney POV, YAY!
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 07:22 am (UTC)Oh yes. John is up shit's creek while Rodney's more than happy to push him out a little more to the center of the stream, and enjoy it.
And you're writing the LPoC sequel. Rodney POV, YAY!
Well, don't get to excited. It may be because I've been sick but every single one of these have been stuck. And Last Port is better off left as is but I couldn't resist.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 01:57 pm (UTC)I think, it's because you started mentioning this story shortly after the Last Port kerfluffle here and you never really talked about what John had done, that I expected something really dark and with lots of dead bodies and possibly half of Atlantis blown up. And I would have battled my dark fic aversion and at least tried it out but this is infinitely better. Hehe, all day today I've had this delicious mental picture of John on one of these over-sized floating tire things and Rodney just took a really long pole and pushed him out into this disgusting brownish river.
And if you can, please give us the other part/companion piece to Last Port. Even if you only post it here under flock to avoid kerfluffle, take two. I'd give my right arm for that story, or you know, supportive cheering, offers of chocolate and eternal adoration, my (still hypothetical) first-born...
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 11:28 pm (UTC)Okay, I'll consider it. It doesn't really add to the story, I think, because the reaction of some people created this... it's hard to describe... distance between me and the story. Instead of being alive and simply a medium to describe John and Rodney's relationship it became an object to be defended or attacked. Crystalizing it in a particular form. The writing process was an unusual one where I was deep in the character POV, not controlling the direction of the story, and that takes a closeness that I don't think I can do at this point.
I think it's a better story, too, left as is. Obviously there was a lot of power to it. Not one person had the same thing to say about it. But I do have the next bit written, sure. I can post it for a few who are interested.
It's not really the wank so much as I think the story can't be effectively continued and still be as good.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 10:05 pm (UTC)I hold you to nothing whatsoever but must confess my heart did an little excited pitter pat when i saw the header of LPoC sequel
But as I've said before, no pressure, all good things in good time if the muses strike you....
Lexstar29
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 08:26 am (UTC)I love Rodney, but the world doesn't always love him. There are reasons. & ;-)
And oh, more OOB! Yes!
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 05:20 pm (UTC)And then -- *plink* *listens to echo* -- virtually no peep about Out Of Bounds. Hmm.
The John-Screws-Up fic continues apace.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 05:23 pm (UTC)Dunno about others, of course.
Hey. You interested in my personal life? (I whine a lot.)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 05:33 pm (UTC)Whining is fun. :D Yes, of course I'm interested.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 05:36 pm (UTC)*filters adjusted*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 10:07 pm (UTC)Hope you fell better soon, I've been sick all week too and it sucks out loud!
Lexstar
no subject
Date: 2006-08-24 11:31 pm (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-08-25 12:39 am (UTC)And then you come by and say, "silly girl," and show me how much more I could love him. In the space of one paragraph. Alas, my world will never be the same.