wow, is it that time already?
Aug. 26th, 2006 07:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janne_dThe WIP writing meme has come around again, courtesy of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
icarusancalion.
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).
And for once, I have stuff I'm working on, so here goes:
A Dangerous Desire, Regency AU, SGA
Rodney McKay, third and insignificant heir to an unimportant estate, and who cared anyway because it wasn’t like he had any interest in land (really who could?), struggled against the hands holding him and shouted more muffled insults through the smelly bag that was currently over his head. Then he kicked hard in a likely direction and grinned smugly when he connected with something and heard a grunt of pain.
“Goddamn!” The satisfaction died slightly when he felt himself slammed back into something solid. Perhaps that had not been the best idea.
“Oi! Don’t hurt him!” snapped the second of his captors, his voice slightly deeper than the first man’s.
“Why the bloody hell not? He hurt me.”
“Because that flash gent is paying us a bleeding fortune to deliver him unharmed, that’s why not.”
Rodney considered trying to offer them more money to just let him go, not that he could outbid the man who he suspected was behind this outrage, but someone else spoke from behind his shoulder before he could. “And unharmed being specified, you should unhand the man. Now, if you please gentlemen.”
The hands dropped from Rodney’s arms almost immediately, obedient to the strange voice. He vaguely heard one of the ruffians muttering something about not getting angry as he dragged the sack from his head, and then he turned and smacked his fist into the jaw of the man behind him as hard as he could. There was no way on this earth he was just going to let someone kidnap him.
The man staggered back, hit his head on a tree branch and went down, dropping a pistol on the ground. Rodney snatched it up and pointed it determinedly at the other two men, roughly-dressed and unshaven and looking every bit the low criminal class he had assumed from their speech. “Go away. Very, very far away and don’t come back, or I will shoot you.”
They glared and exchanged glances then the shorter one shrugged. “Caper was more trouble than it was worth anyway.”
“Wait,” Rodney called as they turned to leave. “What about him?”
“What about him? He ain’t with us.”
“What?” Rodney shrieked, “He’s not the man who hired you?”
“Till you punched him, he was the one pointing the iron at us. And I don’t reckon he’ll be very happy with you when he wakes up neither,” the big man replied and smirked nastily at Rodney’s shock before they both ran off.
Oh damn. It appeared Rodney, with his usual good fortune, had attacked his rescuer by mistake. He’d been so sure that it had been Lord Gennington behind him, though now that he had time to think, the voice hadn’t sounded particularly the same. He sat down beside the still-stunned man, who didn’t even look like his supposed kidnapper. He was too tall for a start, and much more finely built, with the kind of long, slender legs that actually looked good in the current fashion for tight breeches. He was younger too, about Rodney’s own age, with a smooth-shaven narrow face, slightly crooked nose, soft-looking lips and straight dark brows under tousled dark brown hair.
He looked, in fact, like the kind of man Rodney had always secretly wanted just a little bit to be, even while openly decrying them. Handsome, roguish, the kind of man who caused scandalous occurrences and had beautiful women sighing over him wherever he went, just like Rodney’s cousins. Inveterate rakes, the lot of them.
He reached out and turned the man’s head gently to the side to check for injuries. Rodney was not a small man and did not punch lightly, but he suspected that it was the knock from the branch that had done the real damage in this case. There was a large bump on the back of his skull but it wasn’t bleeding so hopefully Rodney hadn’t caused him any real damage and wouldn’t have to beg for his life when he woke up. He pulled the stranger’s head into his lap, and settled down to wait, idly stroking his hand through the soft hair while he went over some ideas he’d had for his calculations before he’d been so rudely interrupted by inconvenient abductions.
Sometime later, while Rodney was talking his way aloud through a particularly tricky formula, he looked down and nearly bit his tongue at seeing amused hazel eyes watching him. “You’re awake!” he yelped, and jerked his hand off the man’s head. What had he been thinking, stroking him like that, he wasn’t a cat. The man simply grinned infuriatingly and gave a brief nod and a wince. “Why didn’t you say something?” Rodney demanded.
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to notice,” the man drawled, and Rodney sputtered for a minute before realising that he should probably be apologising instead of getting annoyed, no matter how aggravating his would-be rescuer was.
“Well, I had a great deal on my mind, after being abducted and forced to listen to my captors witless conversation all that time, but I do appreciate you trying to rescue me. At least, I assume that is what you were trying to do, however it turned out.”
“Yes, you are fortunate I heard you yelling for help,” the man said, finally sitting up from Rodney’s lap.
“I wasn’t yelling for help, I was telling them what I thought of their ancestry,” Rodney said, slightly indignant. “I would have found a way out of the situation myself quite handily if you hadn’t turned up.”
“When I turned up you had your head in a sack and were pinned to a tree. If I hadn’t intervened, you would still be a prisoner,” the man replied, rising carefully to his feet and stretching out a hand. Rodney took it automatically and found himself pulled to his feet before he was quite ready. He stumbled slightly and the man wrapped his arms round him and pulled Rodney close until he pushed away, feeling slightly unnerved and more off-balance than before.
And another SGA AU thing,
John picked up the device, reached for the little tickle in the back of his mind that was his connection with Atlantis and thought ON. The next thing he knew, he was on his knees on the lab floor, doubled over the device and gasping because he hurt. No, that was wrong, this wasn’t pain but he felt like he was collapsing inside and he could hear Rodney yelling and just when he thought he was going to throw up or pass out, all the wrong-weird feeling stopped.
He dropped the stupid thing like it was radioactive and jumped up and back a few feet. “McKay, what the hell…” but his voice sounded wrong and Rodney was staring at his torso, wild-eyed and white, totally stunned. He looked down, and saw the front of his t-shirt was … pushed out, with curves instead of a flat chest and when he looked further down his pants didn’t look right and ohmygod, he couldn’t feel… where the fuck was his dick?
John wasn’t sure what expression was on his face when he looked back up, but Rodney took one look and fled.
He’d better hope he ran faster than he ever had in his life, because when John caught him, he was a fucking dead man.
icarusancalion.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).
And for once, I have stuff I'm working on, so here goes:
A Dangerous Desire, Regency AU, SGA
Rodney McKay, third and insignificant heir to an unimportant estate, and who cared anyway because it wasn’t like he had any interest in land (really who could?), struggled against the hands holding him and shouted more muffled insults through the smelly bag that was currently over his head. Then he kicked hard in a likely direction and grinned smugly when he connected with something and heard a grunt of pain.
“Goddamn!” The satisfaction died slightly when he felt himself slammed back into something solid. Perhaps that had not been the best idea.
“Oi! Don’t hurt him!” snapped the second of his captors, his voice slightly deeper than the first man’s.
“Why the bloody hell not? He hurt me.”
“Because that flash gent is paying us a bleeding fortune to deliver him unharmed, that’s why not.”
Rodney considered trying to offer them more money to just let him go, not that he could outbid the man who he suspected was behind this outrage, but someone else spoke from behind his shoulder before he could. “And unharmed being specified, you should unhand the man. Now, if you please gentlemen.”
The hands dropped from Rodney’s arms almost immediately, obedient to the strange voice. He vaguely heard one of the ruffians muttering something about not getting angry as he dragged the sack from his head, and then he turned and smacked his fist into the jaw of the man behind him as hard as he could. There was no way on this earth he was just going to let someone kidnap him.
The man staggered back, hit his head on a tree branch and went down, dropping a pistol on the ground. Rodney snatched it up and pointed it determinedly at the other two men, roughly-dressed and unshaven and looking every bit the low criminal class he had assumed from their speech. “Go away. Very, very far away and don’t come back, or I will shoot you.”
They glared and exchanged glances then the shorter one shrugged. “Caper was more trouble than it was worth anyway.”
“Wait,” Rodney called as they turned to leave. “What about him?”
“What about him? He ain’t with us.”
“What?” Rodney shrieked, “He’s not the man who hired you?”
“Till you punched him, he was the one pointing the iron at us. And I don’t reckon he’ll be very happy with you when he wakes up neither,” the big man replied and smirked nastily at Rodney’s shock before they both ran off.
Oh damn. It appeared Rodney, with his usual good fortune, had attacked his rescuer by mistake. He’d been so sure that it had been Lord Gennington behind him, though now that he had time to think, the voice hadn’t sounded particularly the same. He sat down beside the still-stunned man, who didn’t even look like his supposed kidnapper. He was too tall for a start, and much more finely built, with the kind of long, slender legs that actually looked good in the current fashion for tight breeches. He was younger too, about Rodney’s own age, with a smooth-shaven narrow face, slightly crooked nose, soft-looking lips and straight dark brows under tousled dark brown hair.
He looked, in fact, like the kind of man Rodney had always secretly wanted just a little bit to be, even while openly decrying them. Handsome, roguish, the kind of man who caused scandalous occurrences and had beautiful women sighing over him wherever he went, just like Rodney’s cousins. Inveterate rakes, the lot of them.
He reached out and turned the man’s head gently to the side to check for injuries. Rodney was not a small man and did not punch lightly, but he suspected that it was the knock from the branch that had done the real damage in this case. There was a large bump on the back of his skull but it wasn’t bleeding so hopefully Rodney hadn’t caused him any real damage and wouldn’t have to beg for his life when he woke up. He pulled the stranger’s head into his lap, and settled down to wait, idly stroking his hand through the soft hair while he went over some ideas he’d had for his calculations before he’d been so rudely interrupted by inconvenient abductions.
Sometime later, while Rodney was talking his way aloud through a particularly tricky formula, he looked down and nearly bit his tongue at seeing amused hazel eyes watching him. “You’re awake!” he yelped, and jerked his hand off the man’s head. What had he been thinking, stroking him like that, he wasn’t a cat. The man simply grinned infuriatingly and gave a brief nod and a wince. “Why didn’t you say something?” Rodney demanded.
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to notice,” the man drawled, and Rodney sputtered for a minute before realising that he should probably be apologising instead of getting annoyed, no matter how aggravating his would-be rescuer was.
“Well, I had a great deal on my mind, after being abducted and forced to listen to my captors witless conversation all that time, but I do appreciate you trying to rescue me. At least, I assume that is what you were trying to do, however it turned out.”
“Yes, you are fortunate I heard you yelling for help,” the man said, finally sitting up from Rodney’s lap.
“I wasn’t yelling for help, I was telling them what I thought of their ancestry,” Rodney said, slightly indignant. “I would have found a way out of the situation myself quite handily if you hadn’t turned up.”
“When I turned up you had your head in a sack and were pinned to a tree. If I hadn’t intervened, you would still be a prisoner,” the man replied, rising carefully to his feet and stretching out a hand. Rodney took it automatically and found himself pulled to his feet before he was quite ready. He stumbled slightly and the man wrapped his arms round him and pulled Rodney close until he pushed away, feeling slightly unnerved and more off-balance than before.
And another SGA AU thing,
John picked up the device, reached for the little tickle in the back of his mind that was his connection with Atlantis and thought ON. The next thing he knew, he was on his knees on the lab floor, doubled over the device and gasping because he hurt. No, that was wrong, this wasn’t pain but he felt like he was collapsing inside and he could hear Rodney yelling and just when he thought he was going to throw up or pass out, all the wrong-weird feeling stopped.
He dropped the stupid thing like it was radioactive and jumped up and back a few feet. “McKay, what the hell…” but his voice sounded wrong and Rodney was staring at his torso, wild-eyed and white, totally stunned. He looked down, and saw the front of his t-shirt was … pushed out, with curves instead of a flat chest and when he looked further down his pants didn’t look right and ohmygod, he couldn’t feel… where the fuck was his dick?
John wasn’t sure what expression was on his face when he looked back up, but Rodney took one look and fled.
He’d better hope he ran faster than he ever had in his life, because when John caught him, he was a fucking dead man.
