I'm killing a little time
Jun. 4th, 2003 05:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itsallovernowI want to ressurect the Lily, Rosemary and Jack of Hearts fic, but I'm intimidated by the amount of plotting it will entail. Story notes here I come.
I also have three WIP's, a) future fic, the dark fairy tale of John and Aeryn and their offspring, b) a post Bad Timing that involves copious amounts of vomit, andc) a post LATP AU where John wakes up, in the middle of a war, looking into a pair of blue eyes.
In hopes of inspiring myself to focus on one over the other, I'm gonna post tiny snippets from each.
He's weak and the old shoulder injury is bugging the crap out of him. His body is stiff and unweildy, atrophied to a degree despite protests to the contrary from the scientists that he should be his old self.
He shrugs them off, realizes it isn't age so much as stiffness. He's been frozen for 16 cycles, and the muscle stimulants they charged into the statues just couldn't compete with real movement.
Anix, 15 cycles old, blue eyed, curious, and smart as a whip, has been taunting him through recovery. She's lightening fast, and snorted with laughter at his reluctance to hit her. He quickly realized he was no threat to her. She was slender, but speedy and frequently made him smile at her youthful energy.
He hears whispered rumors about her mother, the fierce rebel captain who had insisted upon saving the Royal Planet from further ravages of war, but so far, the soldier hadn't graced him with her presence. The rumors suggest that she's currently off planet, handling a skirmish nearby. It doesn't seem to bother Anix overly. The guards respect her, and the other rebel soldiers look at her with as much fondness as they are capable of.
He is only good for a couple of hours everyday, though, and much of that time is spent with Katralla and the child developing inside her. She hasn't opened her eyes since the explosion released them, but the fetus continues to grow. Tyno, who doesn't look so much older as worn down, sits with her the rest of the time. His eyes are empty, the trade off of civil harmony for love not the kind of pain he had expected.
John gets that. He has had cycles to come up with the right words to get Aeryn to stay, and he knows now that they still wouldn't have made any difference. After they'd dragged her back from the Barren Lands, her companion having died from the fall, they fixed her leg before exiling her. She had limped into the chamber one night before departing. She'd stroked his face, his brow, and left, her feelings as opaque as ever.
He sits on the mat in the room that has been converted for his use. Anix is stretching, looking at him with a glint of mischief that he has a feeling her mother would disapprove of. Her eyes are so blue that they catch him off guard, and before he can stop himself, visions of parents and children dancing behind his eyes, he asks, "Anna, where's your dad?"
I also have three WIP's, a) future fic, the dark fairy tale of John and Aeryn and their offspring, b) a post Bad Timing that involves copious amounts of vomit, andc) a post LATP AU where John wakes up, in the middle of a war, looking into a pair of blue eyes.
In hopes of inspiring myself to focus on one over the other, I'm gonna post tiny snippets from each.
He's weak and the old shoulder injury is bugging the crap out of him. His body is stiff and unweildy, atrophied to a degree despite protests to the contrary from the scientists that he should be his old self.
He shrugs them off, realizes it isn't age so much as stiffness. He's been frozen for 16 cycles, and the muscle stimulants they charged into the statues just couldn't compete with real movement.
Anix, 15 cycles old, blue eyed, curious, and smart as a whip, has been taunting him through recovery. She's lightening fast, and snorted with laughter at his reluctance to hit her. He quickly realized he was no threat to her. She was slender, but speedy and frequently made him smile at her youthful energy.
He hears whispered rumors about her mother, the fierce rebel captain who had insisted upon saving the Royal Planet from further ravages of war, but so far, the soldier hadn't graced him with her presence. The rumors suggest that she's currently off planet, handling a skirmish nearby. It doesn't seem to bother Anix overly. The guards respect her, and the other rebel soldiers look at her with as much fondness as they are capable of.
He is only good for a couple of hours everyday, though, and much of that time is spent with Katralla and the child developing inside her. She hasn't opened her eyes since the explosion released them, but the fetus continues to grow. Tyno, who doesn't look so much older as worn down, sits with her the rest of the time. His eyes are empty, the trade off of civil harmony for love not the kind of pain he had expected.
John gets that. He has had cycles to come up with the right words to get Aeryn to stay, and he knows now that they still wouldn't have made any difference. After they'd dragged her back from the Barren Lands, her companion having died from the fall, they fixed her leg before exiling her. She had limped into the chamber one night before departing. She'd stroked his face, his brow, and left, her feelings as opaque as ever.
He sits on the mat in the room that has been converted for his use. Anix is stretching, looking at him with a glint of mischief that he has a feeling her mother would disapprove of. Her eyes are so blue that they catch him off guard, and before he can stop himself, visions of parents and children dancing behind his eyes, he asks, "Anna, where's your dad?"
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no subject
Date: 2003-06-05 11:55 am (UTC)Gah...now I'm all tenterhook-y.
no subject
Date: 2003-06-05 12:10 pm (UTC)(Oh, and thank you!! Love to leave you on those tenter-hooks.)
no subject
Date: 2003-06-05 12:38 pm (UTC)That said, it's an interesting idea, isn't it-what kind of mother would Aeryn be without John Crichton and without meeting her own mother? An Aeryn who goes off believing John didn't love her enough to fight...hmmm, yeah, maybe you do want to run from that plot.
I have to admit that it's an idea that I've played with a few times myself. Although, in my head, Aeryn's always got the young'un with her (and, in at least one version, had an affair with D'Argo along the way) and I uniformly blow up Katralla in a hideous space accident.
Don't get between a 'shipper and her J&A fix. ;]
Re:
Date: 2003-06-05 01:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-05 01:46 pm (UTC)DeathtoComagirl
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Date: 2003-06-05 02:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-05 02:51 pm (UTC)Why I am getting a mental image of Ellen Degenres doing the butter churn and singing that...?
Very strange.
Happy B-Day! Enjoy...
Re:
Date: 2003-06-05 04:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-05 05:33 pm (UTC)Don't run! Plots, like problems just get worse the longer you run. I suggest that you sit down and finish writing it and then the plot bunnies will leave you be.
Not buying are you? Damn.
Hey Thea! Look, over there, a naked John Crichton!
*FBF poke thea in the back with a sharp pointy stick*
What? That wasn't me, I just found it here lying on the ground. I think its yours, you know the one you were poking me with. *g*
Oh and suggestion, have Anna(anix?) be all legs and odd angles as 15 yr old girls who haven't matured yet seemed to be. It would put off John really realizing who she is. Just a thought.
no subject
Date: 2003-06-05 06:58 pm (UTC)Yeah, do that do that-look! Crichton's butt! pokes Thea in the back with a stick
Poke you? Who? Me? Never. ;]
Re:
Date: 2003-06-06 10:28 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-06-06 10:29 am (UTC)