Snippet Post #1
Nov. 15th, 2012 11:31 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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oeam_bigbangNow's the time to show off a few words for the rest of us.
Please give us your fandom and no more than 500 words please. This is NOT mandatory but it is fun. There will be another unannounced snippet post sometime later too!
Alex
Please give us your fandom and no more than 500 words please. This is NOT mandatory but it is fun. There will be another unannounced snippet post sometime later too!
Alex
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The Case of the Whitechapel Fiend
Date: 2012-11-15 04:32 pm (UTC)~~~
Lestrade was at the door of 221 Baker Street early that morning. I’d not even sent one of the boys out for the paper yet and Holmes was still abed. I’d heard him moving around late into the night so I went down for tea with Mrs. Hudson and had just gone back upstairs when the inspector knocked on the door.
“The landlady said you were in. Is he up?” He gestured with his head toward Holmes’ bedchamber.
“Not yet. He was about his experiments last night until some ungodly hour. What brings you here so early?”
“Have you read the papers?”
“I was about to send one of Holmes’ boys out for one.”
Lestrade pulled out one of the morning dailies. “There’s been two more. They were found about six this morning. Bad business, Dr. Watson. Cut their throats and slit their bellies.”
Lestrade looked shaken, which was unusual for the experienced policeman. I knew he meant there were more dead women in Whitechapel. The first had been a week ago and only made the news because she had been brutalized in a most horrid way by her killer.
“I think we may need Holmes’ help.”
no subject
Date: 2012-11-15 05:57 pm (UTC)The first person POV is by Count Glorfindel:
Some years ago, in eighteen ninety-four, I visited Paris to watch the start of the Petit Journal Paris-Rouen Race, because even though motor cars mystify me I still enjoy watching them proceeding at speed. While there, I had the good fortune to meet Gottlieb Daimler, who tried to explain how car engines work. I am afraid that I drove him to despair with my inability to fully understand. He advised that I should buy a motorcar, with one of his engines inside, and drive around while letting the inner workings remain a mystery. “We do not have to understand everything we use, we just have to trust it will do what we require of it,” he told me.
I could immediately appreciate his logic. However, I did not buy a motor car until eight years later. John Fosberry, who has proved to be fascinated with engines and only too prepared to get his hands dirty, asked me to buy one while we were indulging in our mutual pleasure. At that point he could have asked me for a string of them and I would have agreed.
Bunchy and I sat in the back of the Mercedes, while Fosberry sat in the front. The law prohibited speeds exceeding fourteen miles per hour and I mentioned several times that a horse could run faster. Fosberry was quick to point out that we were arriving by car because old Hawkridge, who is an unutterable snob, would be impressed and, probably, more willing to help with our investigations.
“So we are officially on the case?” Bunchy asked.
“Not officially, but by the end of today we will be. As Inspector Massingberd of the Yard once said, ‘They tell you more’.
“Is he any relation to the Gunby Massinberds?” Bunchy asked.
“Well of course not,” I laughed. I thought I could see Fosberry giving a wry smile as well.
“He could have been,” Bunchy chuckled. “You know, born the wrong side of the blankets?”
“I believe his parents are quite respectable,” I told him. “He grew up in Brightlingsea and his father is the head clerk of the Wivenhoe-Brightlingsea Railway Company.”
no subject
Date: 2012-11-15 09:27 pm (UTC)I know it's not close to 500 words but I'd give too much away at this point if I used that many lol so for this, I leave you with this little bit for now.
* * * *
“Eowyn, what is this about?” The younger woman asked. The urgency in her friend’s voice had Ambyre act without question. She had gathered what healing supplies she had at her home and followed Eowyn.
“You will know soon, Ambyre.” Eowyn promised. “For now I ask you to trust me.”
Ambyre could not ever remember seeing such desperation in her friend’s eyes before. It worried her but she would do as asked. She nodded silently and could see the relief wash over her Eowyn’s features. This only made Ambyre’s curiosity increase. She had a feeling things from now on would never be the same for her.
“Before we continue,” Eowyn said suddenly “you must swear to never speak of this to anyone.” She placed her hands on the other woman’s shoulders “It is a matter of life and death, Ambyre promise me you will not tell a soul. Swear it!”
“I have never broken a promise to you, I will not start now.” Ambyre replied “ I swear, whatever this is about I will tell no one.”
Ambyre thought Eowyn was going to say more. Instead, the other room just nodded then lead her deeper into the forest. Had she not had the old cabin pointed out to her, Ambyre would have missed it and not even known it was there. She had the feeling this was the point. She could not even begin to imagine what Eowyn needed to bring her her for.
“Did you make her swear?” A deep familiar voice came from inside the cabin as they entered.
“I did,” Eowyn replied. “she swore and you already know I trust her.”
Ambyre stood silently as Eomer watched her closely before he finally nodded his head. He stepped as he reached for Ambyre’s hand and led her into the room.
“Is that?” Ambyre stared at the bed in shock. She had to be seeing things. Surely it could not be....
Gold Digger - Treasure Hunters AU - The Magnificent Seven
Date: 2012-11-15 11:26 pm (UTC)"Ezra, what is it this time?" Chris asked with the hint of warning in his voice.
"Instead of celebrating of our recent diamonds treasure I advised Vin that we should buy ourselves a new gear to dig, is that a problem?" Ezra asked and could feel himself shaking as the anger rising at his voice.
"With you there is always something up and you won't dig, I don't know why I bother to take you… after all you are just a cheater to us." Chris barked at him angrily, shaken at the feeling that he felt toward the conman, not knowing why it hurts so much.
"Just a cheater to you?" Ezra asked as he took one step forward him.
"Yes, you are." Chris confirmed and turned away.
"Nathan, I could use your help right now," Chris called and waited for the doc to come closer to him, and then he added, "I need you to replace Ezra and digging with Vin."
Nathan exchanged look between Chris and Ezra, not knowing what occurred between them, but decide not to say a word, probably Vin will tell him inside.
Ezra Standish pushed passes Chris's shoulder and walked through the camp collecting his things, and before leaving, Chris could hear him saying to Josiah: "It was nice working with you Mr. Sanchez."
"What do you mean it was nice working? Wait… where do you think that you are going?" Josiah asked him and tried to keep up with him, but being not succeeded.
Josiah then walked toward Chris, "You want to tell me what it was all about?"
"No, it doesn't matter; you have nothing to worry about." Chris replied and then he was back standing in the entrance of the cave watching the two men working.
When nightfall came, as darkness filled them, the light of fire and scenes of meal were in the air, the team minus one began to talk on the recent event; Ezra's missing, or rather quit.
"He'll be back," Buck said a bit of cheerful, while glaring at his long time friend, "Some of his stuff is still here, though I've noticed that your car is missing."
"He stole my car?" Chris was furious, and then he added, "He is a cheater and a thief now, I don't know what I was thinking taking him to be in our team."
"He didn't steal it, he left a note, and he just borrowed it." Buck came to the conman defended although he wasn't present.
"Borrowed? Oh… I have no idea why I bother to get him on my team in the first place; he is nothing but a cheater and a thief to us." Chris muttered.
"What else did he wrote in the note?" Josiah asked with curiosity as he ignored Chris's voice.
"We don't need him!" Chris voice was heard.
"You might not need him, but he is our friend." JD pointed toward Chris, and waited to Buck to read the content of the note.
"Well… what did he wrote?" Nathan urged Buck.
"He wrote that he'll come in the morning to collect his things and move on," Buck replied as he sighed heavily before turning to glare at Chris, "Since when his words doesn't count?"
no subject
Date: 2012-11-15 11:32 pm (UTC)*&*&*&*&*&
Jim Kirk loved his ship. Maybe she wasn't so shiny or so pretty as he had hoped when he had first dreamed of becoming a starship captain, but the U.S.S. Sheffield was reliable, fast and strong and had some years and scars to give her character and make her beautiful. He would not change her for any other ship in the galaxy.
As her captain, Jim knew every inch of her, from the bridge to the last of the cargo bays, from the rec room to the science labs, the engines and every Jeffrey tube and he felt at home in every room and every corridor. The only place where he didn't feel comfortable was sickbay. It was the only place in his ship where he hadn't got the last word, where he had to rely in another person to take the decisions and know what was best for him and his crew. And it wasn't that he didn't trust his medical staff. Doctor Puri was good. One of the best doctors in the Fleet in fact, and Jim would put his life in his hands without a doubt. Any time. Any place. Without blinking. But he hated feeling useless.
Just then Jim was feeling utterly useless, waiting in his cmo's office, walking back and forth because he simply could not stay on the bridge for another minute and it was not good for the crew morale to see their captain pacing anxiously around the main hall of sickbay. Puri had been in surgery for the last four hours and, the more Jim waited, the more he feared the news would be bad. Worse than bad.
He was not even sure of what had happened. The Sheffield had made it to the accorded place at the right time. They had not found traces of any enemy ship in their way there, Jim had made sure of it, and the scanners didn't show any sign of life in the planet, but when they had arrived, they had found their contact more dead than alive. Jim had recognized the guy as soon as he had seen him. It was commander Spock. He had not seen him since the view in the Academy, when the Vulcan had charged him with cheating in the Kobayashi Maru and then had run to his station in the Enterprise, leaving Jim back, to sneak into the Farragut in the last possible moment, but he knew him. Even half covered in blood, with a tattoo in his face and dressed with a ragged Romulan uniform, he knew him. And knew without a doubt that he was dying.
Two Snippets
Date: 2012-11-16 01:28 am (UTC)Snippet 1 (Tolkien):
~”A Silmaril of Fëanor burns again in the woods of Doriath”~
Maedhros looked up from his maps and frowned. He could hear the shouting quite clearly; Maglor was angry with the “Terrible Three”, as the bard was wont to call his middle brothers.
“Maedhros, you must do something!” Maglor roughly pushed the tent flap open, his quiet entrance indicating his anger.
“What must I do, Maglor?” Maedhros asked tiredly. “What now?”
~~~*~~~
Snippet 2 (LotR/Arthurian Legend -- possibly LotSeeker and/or Marvel-verse, depends on what the muse says):
"It is any easy task," Gwen's father said. "But I can do no work on the Sabbath, as you know."
Since he was studying the horse's hoof, he missed the bemused look between Aragorn and Legolas.
"A day of rest will do you and your mounts good, for it looks as if you have come very far."
"We have indeed." Aragorn said.
"Ah, you must be pilgrims then. I thought so." The two travelers turned to see a woman standing in the shadowed doorway.
"My daughter, Gwen." The blacksmith said.
The Sweetest Thing
Date: 2012-12-10 08:33 pm (UTC)The Sweetest Thing 01
It had been a bloody, bloody battle.
The Rohirrim’s new Captain surveyed the field, strewn with bodies – both Dunlendings and Riders… more Dunlendings than not, thank Béma.
“Who’s missing? Dead?” Elfhelm, Rohan’s youngest captain jumped from his horse and began to sift through the bodies, praying to find life. “Where are Mathye and Gauwyn?” His eyes searched frantically. One was his brother in law. The other was his youngest brother.
“Here. I’m here!” Mathye shouted. “Bastards knifed my horse, though.”
“How bad?” Elfhelm made is way over bodies, trying to pick out the Rohirrim, still searching for his brother.
“Not bad, but I need to get him tended to and this isn’t the place for it.” Mathye looked around, his face in a scowl. “This place has eyes. We need to grab our wounded and get out of here.”
His sister’s husband had the gift of second sight, a hackling on the back of his neck that had proven correct more times than not. Elfhelm learned early that when the man said ‘run’, you’d best run. His instinct was not often wrong. “We ride as soon as we find… oh… Béma!”
Gauwyn, Elfhelm’s brother was struggling to rise from under his fallen and bloodied horse. The man was covered with filth from head to foot. Mathye took Elfhelm’s reins from him as he rushed to his brother’s side. “How much of the blood is yours?”
Gauwyn’s mouth was a white line. “A lot actually.” With obvious great effort, he stood almost straight up. He peered over his horse. “Damn. I really liked that horse.”
Elfhelm inspected him quickly. “Where is the worst?”
“Leg and my side.” He was holding the wound at his waist and both brothers grimaced when he pulled his hand away. “Is there a horse? I don’t think I’m going to walk out of here.“
“Can you get up on one?” Despite his injuries, the look on Gauwyn’s face said it all. Elfhelm whistled, motioning for Mathye to bring his charger. It took both men to get him up into the saddle. “There is a outpost about an hour or two from here. Will you make it?” Gauwyn’s head was starting to droop, but it looked as if he nodded. *Béma, please let him make it.*
“Elfhelm!” Mathye hissed. “Druncenig Ende is a haven for swine and human rejects!”
“Aye, I know it’s unsavory reputation.” He pulled up behind his brother, gently cradling him between his thighs. “But we have no choice. Several horses need tending to and Gauwyn isn’t the only one injured! At least there will be healers there.”
“I’m fine,” Gauwyn slurred. Elfhelm gritted his teeth to keep from swearing.
“Aye, you’re fine and I’m the lost king of Gondor,” the Captain muttered. He didn’t see the lop-sided smile on Gauwyn’s face. Quickly, he made his round of his gathering éored, mentally going through the roster. He shook his head in regret at the few injured bodies that were struggling onto steeds, thankful there were only three and no dead.
Yet.
“Elfhelm,” Mathye was now reining tight on an ever-irascible horse. The stallion was still smelling blood and trying to work back into a war frenzy. “The air is restless and the sun will be setting soon. We need to make haste.”
“Aye. They want to bury their dead as well. Or burn them.” Taking one last look at the field, making sure they left nothing that was Rohan. “Whatever it is Wild Men do with their dead,” he snarled. “Bring up the rear, Mathye. My hands are full.” With that, Elfhelm moved to the front of the ragged group of Riders and made way quickly to outpost.