Alternative writings

IDK what this is.

Title: Collecting
Verse: Dawn of the Old Gods - my Urban fantasy verse.
Subject: Adrienne notices one of Trever's collectibles.
Notes; Yeah... so I don't know where this came from... but WAMPA!

~+~


"Trever?" Adrienne asked as she stopped by his desk. He didn’t look up from his computer screen as he typed up a report.

"Yeah?"

"What is that on your monitor?"

He flicked his eyes up to the top of the monitor and the brightly colored stuffed toy about the length of his arm sitting on there. It looked kind of like a long limbed cow crossed with a lizard with a short neck and three toed feat instead of hooves as well as a forked tongue. "It’s a wampa."

Sighing, she said, "I know it’s a wampa. But why is it on your computer? Isn’t that a kid’s toy from that cartoon? The Land of Wampas?"

"... Because I collect them?"

Adrienne paused and then shook her head, "You are such a geek Trever; you know that?"

"So I’ve been told," Trever said, and then went back to his typing. He didn’t really have anything else worth saying in regards to this, after all. She snorted and walked off, leaving him and his wampa alone.

Short Nathan story. Sequel to the Secret of Flying.

( Potential spoilers for Heroes. )

Eragon ficlet for Theatrical Muse. Thought I'd share. It sort of gives you a feel of him as I see him, at least.

197: Is there anyone in your life who you feel is exceptionally wise? Who, and how did you meet this person?


Muse: Eragon
Fandom: Eragon
Words: 477


( Ficlet )

This is an utter brainfart. That is all.



The scene appeared to be a generic fantasy world. We were in a large valley with a mountain city made of marble. The Jurisdiction had set up camp about half a kilometer away from it. The camp was busy with a flurry of people examining texts. When I entered the camp I was brought over to Landsbury, the liaison to the PPC (an group that looked after fan fiction and trimmed out nuisances known as Mary Sues that often ruined literature by their mistakes). Behind him I could see a group of PPC agents dressed in their rag tag uniforms, bristling with weapons.

"What's the story here?" I asked.

"Well Thursday, it's like this. The PPC thought they had themselves a Stu in a horrendous crossover fic, but it turns out he's not."

"Then what is it?"

"It's a generic gone rogue. He calls himself Eragon. Apparently he's gone through hundreds of fantasy novels and cut out bits and pieces to make his own world, changing names here and there. But if you look at the text you can see that it's put together by someone who doesn't know what he's doing."

Mostly because I promised. And Because I didn't want to let you think I was going to leave this one alone. Eragon/Arya


Meat pt. four


Eragon sat at the fire watching the flames slowly lick and tease the pot that was cooking the meat. Through the heat of the flames he could see the elf, laying in the dirt as comfortable as the could make her. Her raven black hair was strew like a halo around her head, her rosy lips were pursed slightly as if she were thinking... or about to give a kiss. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the fire light, showing none of the bruises that she had when they had rescued her.

Eragon watched her and desired to give her some of his meat.

She must be hungry for something by now. She hadn't eaten a thing the entire time she had been with them. She hadn't moved or twitched or anything. This stillness wrought a horrible desire in him. A desire to touch her. To hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. To give her meat, little by little. Just tiny bites at first because he didn't think he could handle his meat all at once. Not after not eating for so long.

Maybe he would give her soup at first. That would whet her appetite for meat.

Then he could give her meat. He could show her how manly he was in being able to give her meat.

She would be so grateful to him for rescuing her that she would gladly partake in his meat.

It would be wonderful, being out under the stars, sharing the meat, getting to know each other intimately.

He wanted to watch her enjoy his meat. He wanted so see her expression as she took what he gave her. The gratitude for his meat. The expression of joy as she received it.

Hungrily he glanced at the pot, watching the flames, wanting his meat. Wanting to be able to give her his meat.

Murtagh stepped into view at that moment, between the elf and Eragon. His eyes were alight with the flames that cooked their meat.

"It's almost done," he said softly.

"Good," replied Eragon, wrenching his eyes from the elf, "Because I really need some."

Herne hated newbies. He hated having to train them, get rid of their delusions of autonomy, and their smug attitudes.  Every single one seemed to have the same God’s gift to this Earth attitude that needed deflating. And it looked like the latest one wasn’t any different. He watched as the guards brought the new one in. What were they calling him? Arawn. Yes.  Herne checked his semi-automatic as Arawn was brought in, handcuffed.  The grub had actually managed to escape the facility and lead Herne’s team on a merry chase before he was brought in. 

And now he was supposed to be on Herne’s team. They said he was under control. That safeties had been put into place. This wasn’t reassuring at all. After all, that’s what they said before he had escaped.

 Arawn was sat on the rickety chair in front of Herne and his handcuffs taken off. He rubbed his hands and looked around. Herne could tell that he was thinking about trying to bolt. Best to put a stop to that.

 He clicked off the safety and put the gun to Arawn’s head.  All the blood drained from the grub’s face. 

 “Now then,” Herne began pleasantly, “I remember the fact it took us a week to find you and recapture you again. It was one of the more aggravating weeks I’ve had. I don’t like trying to find worthless pieces of junk like you when I have other things to do.  I also know that the higher ups think that you will be a worthwhile addition to my team. As they are the higher ups, I have to do what they say. But I have this to say to you. If you even put a single hair out of line I will kill you. Despite what the higher ups say. Because I am more valuable to them than you are, so I can get away with these things.” He pressed the gun’s barrel against Arawn’s skull. “I do hope we have an understanding.”

 Arawn nodded, his eyes never leaving Herne’s face.

 Herne pulled the gun away and clicked the safety back on. “Excellent.”

( More Jewish Girl at Hogwarts )

I need to come up with a name for this besides Jewish Girl at Hogwarts. I'm thinking this is going to take place in Harry's second year and maybe she'll make friends with Luna or Ginny. *shrugs* I don't know yet. I haven't even figured out what house to put her in. I'm tempted to do Ravenclaw. But Gryffindor would be more... exciting. But it's so cliched. The thing is that most of the known characters are in Gryffindor and there for would be better fleshed out.

Scenes I want to do: Shabbat. The Feast. Quidditch. House elves. Explaining Kosher food. Of course there would also have to be worry about the Basalisk run... slithering around. And Ginny acting weird. Dunno. Stuff to think about, definatetly.

Because FF.Net is being an ass, I'm posting the next part of my Green Lantern/Lord of the Rings fic here:

( The Brave and The Bold part three )

I was supposed to go Israeli Folk dancing to night, but it got canceled. So instead, I induldged in a plot bunny.

It's a Green Lantern/Flash-Lord of the Rings crossover.

( the Prologue to the crossover maybe read here )

I'm thinking about calling it "the Brave and the Bold -Journey of the Fantastic"

The Brave and the Bold was the nick-name for the Flash and Green Lantern. Don't know who was who though.