#fun stuffs!

[shiroselia]

Sometimes you go into a chapter and go "Okay, serious lore drops."

And then you're writing a pyajamas party. And serious lore drops.

[terribleteej]

FanFic Meme!

OPENING LINES: List the first lines of your last 8 stories (if you have  less than 8, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose  your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

Hereby tagging @actiaslunaris, @alipeeps , @timotey because everyone else I know has been tagged...

Wouldn’t have a clue for patterns either, you tell me?

Favourite? What Favourite?

1. Finer Details:

An Original Fic - From Chapter 1

His fingers twitched.

The ring of a smartphone broke the still darkness and dragged him up out of a deep sleep. He frowned, rolling to face away from the couch and reached up to run a hand through his short black hair. He'd pinned his left arm under him, which now lay inert across his stomach. It had gone numb. He scowled and cracked an eye open as the smartphone continued ringing.

Tak Min Kal stared at his left hand, watching three of the fingers spasm, curling inwards towards his palm. The prickling of returning sensation began to register as hot uncomfortable needles. The phone rang again, an actual telephone ringtone. He groaned, turning to look at the forest of green soju bottles on his coffee table. Dropped carelessly in among a collection of classic rock CD's and Take-away wrappers was his phone.

2. You Did Much FOr Me, I will Do Much For You :

A  Sleuth of Ming Dynasty Fan Fic

On the second day after they had entered the Mongolian Steppes region, a guard removed his manacles.

Both sets of them.

Ding Rong held his head characteristically down while his sharp-eyed, dark gaze lifted. His cage had been set off to one side of the large encampment. The oxen had been unyoked and their caretaker busied himself with camp preparations for the coming night.

Two guards approached the cage that late afternoon instead of the usual one. He didn't recognize either one as the guards dealing with him were different each day. One held a wooden tray, the other a set of keys. The nearby servant, tending to the oxen, got up and quickly set a small step stool for the guards to use. The cage door was unlocked and one of the men stepped inside without a word. He reached down and pulled on the chain between Ding Rong's wrists.

His stare had no effect whatsoever on the guard as the man unlocked the manacles. The guard said nothing to him, just going about his job. He crouched, grasping one of Ding Rong's ankles and unlocked the metal cuff. Orders from the very start were that no man was to speak to him. His treatment had a casual roughness, typical for prisoners, but he had not been abused. Though he sensed curiosity, no one inquired.

Ding Rong knew why.

3. Love Me If You Dare -- Whumptober Challenge:

A Love Me If You Dare FanFic challenge

 October 1st -- Shaky Hands

Reflexes were the only thing that prevented Bo Jin Yan from losing a finger.

With a forceful, audible, thunk, he set the knife down on the cutting board, and stared at his hands.

He wanted to deny what was occurring. Get himself, his thoughts, and his body, back under his iron tight control. His hands however, betrayed him. His mind? Well that was still up for discussion...

4. Connect The Dots:

A Guardian Fan Fic

Zhao Yunlan’s mischievous chuckle floated through the chilly air. It reached the hearing of the man walking some distance behind him.

Shen Wei tensed.

Zhao Yunlan’s chuckle was a tell-all that he was plotting something. Usually something devious and twisted. Be it another hair-brained plot, or a way of catching people off guard. Or both. Or worse, practising his particular brand of mischief upon him.

Eyeing the man hiking the incline ahead of him, he suspected the latter.

“You know,” Zhao Yunlan said, “This would be a lot easier if you could just...” Shen Wei saw him raise his hand, index finger pointed up and circling. He waved it about. “Take us there.”

Shen Wei sighed.

5. Presentation:

A Galileo Fan Fic

She refused to let this intimidate her but...

Utsumi simply stood in the entry-way and stared. It certainly didn't take a rocket scientist to know Yukawa made good money. His wardrobe alone was proof of that. Now it reflected in the apartment he lived in. Though still considered a small place, the view alone probably made up two-third's of the rent. Outside the glass French doors to the balcony, part of the University campus and the city beyond that twinkled in the night. The other part of the view was the campus Arboretum, enshrouded in darkness with the soft muted glow of hooded lights illuminating the paths wending their way through it.

6. The Fickle Finger of Fate:

A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic

He knew, the moment he stepped inside his home, someone had been in it.

Pausing just inside the genken, Hiko Seijuro slowly lowered the rather heavy pack he had been carrying to the floor of the hut. He stood stock still, his eyes slowly scanning the room.

His shikibuton, and blanket, were exactly as he left them, unmade and unkempt. The fire was completely out in the irori. The ashes not having been disturbed. The cast iron pot, dangling on its hook from the ceiling, didn't move. His gaze flicked around the room, cataloguing his home. The storage room-door still shut-, the low chabudai, the water buckets and the side table where he had stacked dishes.

Nothing.

Sun filtered weakly onto the tatami covered floor, and dust motes swirled about lazily, disturbed by his entrance into the house. Still, Hiko didn't move. Everything was exactly as he left it. Yet...

Something was off.

7. The Healer:

A Sword of the Stranger Fan Fic

When he realized what he saw, Kotaro slowed the horse. In amongst the dried and dead weeds growing alongside the track, was the ribcage of a long dead animal. A stiff breeze whistled through the grasses and smaller trees. Beyond them, further into the meadow, Kotaro could make out the aged and charred remains of several buildings. According to the local villagers, this region had seen many battles. Kotaro gazed on what was left. He sighed and looked towards the foothills.

With the sun sinking below the horizon, the boy looked with trepidation at the long, narrowing, path ahead of them. The villagers had sent them up into these mountains in a dubious search for a healer.   He tried to ignore the sense of evil and foreboding that continually sent a shiver down his spine.

Meanwhile, the horse plodded on.

Tobimaru, in all the happy abandon of a dog left to his own devices, trotted after them, pausing frequently to sniff and investigate. Occasionally he'd plunge into the undergrowth before emerging, tongue lolling, and racing to catch back up.

Behind him, Nanashi uttered a soft groan. His left arm still hung limp and nearly useless. His other arm, in its sling, gripped the back of the saddle to his stomach in an effort to stay on the horse. After the battle at Shishinae they'd ridden through the night and most of the day.

8. Sons of the Desert: Survivor

A Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fic

It wasn't much, as yet, but at least Colonel Miles had a space he could call an office.

It was a temporary situation, a normal wooden structure destined to eventually be used for storage until the stone and stucco HQ building could be completed. Taking its cue from the surrounding ruins and rebuilding, Fort Ishval would soon have its own low level, thick walled, buildings to try and beat the heat. Even though it was Spring, temps during the afternoon could still get a bit high.

The Colonel made a concession for that and was sat at his desk with his jacket fully unbuttoned. He wondered for the umpteenth time if the requisition to redesign the State Military uniforms for Ishval would ever be reviewed, much less implemented. Heat exhaustion was the number one issue the fledgling garrison dealt with. Made worse by the wool uniforms. It had already taken some serious negotiation with Central Command to get them to re-align the training and work schedules to work around the fierce desert heat.

Which was why he was in his office during mid day.

Head buried in his work, he was signing off on several things when a rapping on his door arrested his attention.

“Come...” he barked, knowing it was his adjutant, Sergeant Major Benjamin. He didn't look up right away, just stacking a report on his out pile and glanced over at his aide.

“Sir, I have a rather, unusual, situation I think might be of interest to you.” Benji said, barely hiding a smile, he had a slightly tattered folder in his hand. Miles glanced up.

Big, solid and carrying the distinct Ishvallan glare, he lifted an eyebrow at Benjamin. Miles could be intimidating as hell and a terror to the recruits. Somehow that got dampened by his Sergeant Major, which was what made his adjutant an excellent right hand man.

“You realize I'm up to my ass in requisition forms, rejected applications for supplies, rejected supplies being sent back. And Ishvalla knows what else. Tell me what the hell we need 300 butter dishes for?”

“Sounds like Central is clearing out their closets.” Benji remarked, keeping as straight a face as he could.

“I also want to know why things are mysteriously disappearing here and there. How the hell do you lose a 50 pound sacks of flour? McGinty is furious.”

“Yes, he's threatening rations on the biscuits.” Benjamin replied dryly.

[theexternalautomatedtruth]

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