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Sunday, October 18th, 2020
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8:17 pm
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Part of this writing blog is locked so that I can keep track of who reads what. If you want to be added, though, just ask!
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(comment on this)
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| Tuesday, April 29th, 2008
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2:54 am
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| Saturday, September 3rd, 2005
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3:57 pm
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He is lying in my bed, sleeping. I had thought that he would sleep with his arms spread open and his legs stretched out, taking possession of the bed the way he has taken possession of everything else. Instead he is lying on his side, curled up in an almost fetal position.
He seems vulnerable now, and more real. To my surprise I feel protective of him. I want to take him in my arms and hold him and that has nothing to do with lust.
I am not fooled by this new side of him, nor am I lovestruck because we had sex. I know he doesn’t wear a mask. He is exactly as he appears – detached, utterly egoistical, wicked, sarcastic, arrogant – he doesn’t need anyone except himself. But this Mordred, this man who sleeps like a child...
( He rolls on his back and his dark eyes are wide, awake. )
***
Somewhat inspired by an old ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) cues challenge, 'shine'. I realise that the tone changes, though I don't know if it's annoying. Hm. Most of this is months old, but since I've been neglecting this world, I needed to update something.
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| Tuesday, April 12th, 2005
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10:44 pm - T/P snippet. "The person who defines you"
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It was a stupid assignment, by all means. Pan stared at the piece of paper, chewing on her pen. She was sitting at the Briefs’ kitchen table, her homework in front of her, pop music playing softly in the background. Alone for the moment, since Bra had left her to go to the bathroom.
Who defined her? Her parents had made her, that was for sure. They had made her begin; they had made her be. Furthermore, they more than anyone else had influenced her when she grew up. They had shaped her into the person she was, at least up until a certain age.
The person who defines you. As if there were only one person who defined her. Each and every one of her friends, her family, her enemies, defined her. Every one of them made her act a certain way or changed her view on certain things. Every person she met defined her, perhaps, because she’d surely be different if she hadn’t met them. Not noticably maybe, not even for herself, but different nonetheless.
The person who defines you. It was one of those assignments that made her nervous, because she didn’t know what exactly her teacher wanted from her. Did he want her to write an essay about her ideas on the subject or did he actually want her to pick one person and write down how he or she defined her? She wanted to get a good grade, so she needed to make a decent story out of this today. Tomorrow’d be too late.
She sighed and put her pen on the paper, staring at the teeth prints in the blue plastic. The person who defines you. Maybe Bra had an idea.
“Pan, hey!”
The person who defines you. She looked up, startled, and found Trunks standing next to her, a smile on his face that didn’t match his grey suit.
“I never thought you could be distracted by homework,” he said, grinning. “I didn’t even sneak up on you!”
“Dork.” She rammed an elbow in his stomach and smirked when he doubled, chuckling and gasping and almost choking on his tongue. He was impossibly cute with that playful grin on his face. At times he was heartstoppingly handsome, blue fire crackling in his eyes and in his aura, casting shadows that made his face and body all sharp lines and angles. She liked him better like this, though, teasing her, a real smile on his face, a real person behind those eyes. The look he gave her made her stomach twirl and her hands shake. His smile made her break out in sweat and grow cold at the same time. He was so godforsakenly cute.
He quickly grabbed her arm and forced it on her back, all but pulling her from her chair in the process. She complained loudly, gasping, and tried to break free, but he was stronger, even when she powered up. “Spar with me?” he asked, the laughter still clear in his voice.
She glanced at her notebook, her pen, the empty chair Bra had been sitting on. Unable to resist his pleading look, she said: “Sure,” and let herself be dragged outside. “You’ll be hurt for this, just so you know,” she added, as an afterthought.
He smirked at her. “For some reason, I think you’ll be the one ending up hurt.”
The person who defines you. She kicked at him, in vain. “Unlikely,” she said, stuck out her tongue, and chose to forget about her assignment.
***
Cross-posted to cues
current mood:  cold
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Sunday, March 13th, 2005
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11:41 pm - Hemlock: Mordred and Ree gettin' it on :P
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“Why did you call me here, Ree?”
He was looking at her intently, his dark eyebrows raised, his full lips slightly curled upwards. He was beautiful, she thought, too feminine to be handsome, but wild and beautiful. She knew he was not to be tamed, but she would be damned if she did not try. It felt better, now that she had finally made up her mind. She didn’t feel content, not when she was putting her self worth on stake as she was, but she could appreciate the determination that had taken over her mind.
He was still looking at her in question, but instead of answering verbally, she walked over to him and leaned against him, her breath on his lips and their gazes locked.
She could feel his heartbeat speed up, but his voice was perfectly controlled. ( You’re letting me win? )
**************
Eh, that probably counts as a cliff-hanger (or really just an unfinished piece). I'm sorry, but this is months old already and since I'm basically stuck there, I finally wanted to update it.
current mood:  calm
current music: Zucchero
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(comment on this)
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1:03 am - Hemlock: Donna/Mordred - questions
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She found him on the balcony. He was sitting on the railing, dangling his feet, staring in the distance. He didn’t acknowledge her, but she hadn’t expected him to.
The tiles were comfortingly hot under her feet and she flattened her toes to catch as much of the heat as possible. The sun was still warm as well, though the wind had picked up and the air was rapidly cooling. She breathed in deeply, smelling the coming rain.
“Have you ever been in love?” she eventually asked, staring at his back.
He didn’t turn to look at her. “Yes.”
She silently cursed the fluttering feeling in her stomach. That answer was more than she had thought. He was more than she had thought, – he was more than she could ever have. She could not expect. She should not hope.
Her tail curled protectively around her bare legs. She wouldn’t ask. She wouldn’t – “What’s going on between you and that woman, Ree?”
He finally turned around, his dark eyes serious. He was too beautiful in this form, the fullness of his lips, the delicate lines of his face making her clench her fists in frustration over a longing she shouldn’t feel. “You’re kidding. You like her?”
His lips slowly curled into a smirk. “I fuck her.”
She breathed out, looking away. It wasn’t normal for her to be attracted to him, anyway. He was of a different race. God, he didn’t even have a tail. Growing up in a human world, however hostile it might have been to her, had royally screwed up her ability to pick acceptable partners. Or possible partners. Then again, most teenage girls didn’t have that particular ability.
He had returned to staring in the distance and she looked at him, sighing softly. A cold drop of rain touched her bare arm and a chill ran down her spine. Another raindrop fell on her cheek, trailing down to the corner of her mouth. With a last look at his sharp profile she turned away and walked back into the apartment, trying to swallow the storm in her throat.
Cross-posted to cues.
current mood: unable to write well, grr
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(comment on this)
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| Friday, October 29th, 2004
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2:14 am - Hemlock: Mordred thinking about Ree
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Mordred smirked to himself. He was breaking Ree, slowly but surely. He knew she wanted him. He also knew that she would never willingly give into that lust. The only way she could ever have him was if she was the one in control of the situation, in control of him. The fun part was that he would not let her have that position. Oh, this challenge was a nice one.
The look in her eyes was cool, but oh so deadly. Mordred, aware of her magic, was slightly wary of that look. He knew Ree was more powerful than she let on, though nowhere near as powerful as she once had been. The fall to this world had hurt her most of everyone, but still she had managed to work herself up to on of the most powerful positions of the earthbound fae. He admired her on a certain level, though he had never desired her position.
“Why do you keep trying, Mordred?” she asked. Her voice was low and clear and he was amused by the feeling that it caused, low in his stomach. Somewhere in this game, the woman had gotten under his skin. It was not only the challenge that entertained him, now, but also Ree herself. He enjoyed her company, amused himself by watching the way she handled the world.
“I’m pleased by this game of ours,” he answered her, truthfully enough.
“Your game,” she replied, dryly. She looked more amused than anything else, he noticed. Maybe he had gotten under her skin, as well. He did not know if that made his challenge easier or harder.
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(4 comments | comment on this)
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| Sunday, October 3rd, 2004
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1:48 am - Hemlock Index
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| Saturday, October 2nd, 2004
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12:43 am - Hemlock: Seth/Donna interlude
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Seth pushed himself up on his arms and shot Donna a naughty look. “So you’ve never...”
“Shut up, stupid cat,” Donna snapped and turned her back on the rachnye lying on her bedroom floor, her tail curling protectively around her hips.
“Oh, don’t pout,” he drawled, the playful tone still evident in his voice. “You’re not that shy.”
She twirled back around, glaring down at him. “Look who’s talking, virgin boy.”
He made a faint sissing noise and hid his head under his arms. “I never should have told you that.”
She smirked and dropped down next to him. “No, you shouldn’t have.” Her look sobered as she glanced at his yellow eyes, and she looked away. “And I really don’t want to talk about it, Seth.”
He nodded, though she couldn’t see it, and lazily pawed at her tail. “Okay.”
She wrapped her arms around her knees, staring through the window at the grey sky. Her tail swayed slowly back and forth, unconsciously inviting him for another hunt.
“So that Mordred guy, huh,” he said, eventually. His voice was low and his soft, gentle purr almost stilled.
She made a face at the clouds. “What about him?”
“You like him.”
She snorted. “Please, Seth, you’ve met him. There’s nothing to like.”
His eyes narrowed. “Fine, then you have this incontrollable lust for him.” His nails pressed to hard on her tail and she whacked at his hands, annoyed.
“So what if I do? It’s none of your business.”
He sighed and turned away from her, curling up in a seemingly impossible ball. “He’ll hurt you.”
She shook her head. “He - she’s my friend.”
“For now, yes.”
“Stop it, Seth,” she snapped. “I know you don’t like him and I know you’re worried about me, but I can handle myself. He won’t hurt me. Even if he’d try, I wouldn’t let him.”
She settled back down, pulling her tail free from his grasp and curling it around herself. She layed her chin on her knees and glared in the distance.
He kept quiet.
*******
AN: Yes, this is very much in the future. At least a year after Mordred and Donna meet. I probably just gave away huge spoilers, but hey, I wasn't even trying to write this in order.
Seth is new. He's rachnye - catboy, yup. He and his kind are what happens when fae mess with magic and human and animal DNA, and then decide to interbreed. It'll all probably be explained, sooner or later. You can find a few pictures of him over at ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) nimravid. So far - I like.
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(comment on this)
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| Saturday, September 4th, 2004
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5:27 pm
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Op een saaie avond op een introweekend besloten een mentorzusje en ik voor elkaar twee personages te creëren die we in een romantische situatie moesten zien te krijgen. Mijn mentorzusje had een slechte (en volkomen onjuiste!) indruk van mij, schijnbaar, want ze gaf me de centaur Virella en ork Grimslo, met het idee dat ik haar ook een volkomen onmogelijk stel zou geven (niet dus!).
Dankjewel, Janna.
Nou ja, ik ben maar bij de romantiek begonnen, dus het hele begin moet je er maar bij denken. Grimslo heeft Virella gevraagd haar te helpen bij de een of andere zoektocht, ze is met hem meegegaan en ze zijn nu weer terug in Grimslo's grot, na wekenlang samen gereisd te hebben.
************
Virella keek nerveus om zich heen. Hoe was ze hier terechtgekomen, in deze kille, vochtige grot, alleen?
“Hé, perdwif!”
Ze rilde en sloeg met haar witte staart. Alleen met een ork, dus. De chagrijnigste en beledigendste die ze ooit ontmoet had. En dat alleen omdat ze gezworen had iedereen te helpen die haar om hulp vroeg.
De reis was voorbij, de tocht door het koude Onderland geslaagd, dus wat deed ze in Hermes’ naam nog in deze grot?
“Perdwif!”
Ze draaide zich met een ruk naar hem toe, haar oren plat tegen haar hoofd. “Wat?!”
Grimslo stapte op haar af, een donkere kruik vasthoudend. Met een kortaf gebaar drukte hij het in haar handen. “Drink,” beval hij.
Ze voelde een rilling langs haar ruggegraat lopen bij het horen van zijn diepe stem, en sloot even haar ogen. Toen schudde ze haar hoofd en stampte geïrriteerd met een hoef op de grond. Wat bezielde haar? Hij was het lelijkste monster dat ze ooit had ontmoet. Dat hij de enige tweebener was die langer was dan zij, wilde niet zeggen dat hij het effect van een hengst op haar moest hebben. Ze was geen bijzonder keurige merrie, maar relaties tussen verschillende soorten gingen haar te ver. Of dat tegenwoordig nou discriminerend was of niet.
Grimslo keek haar met een zuur gezicht aan. “Ik snap niet dat jullie paarden niet gewoon stil kunnen staan. Is het werkelijk zo moelijk?” Hij zond een duistere blik naar de kruik. “Drink je nog wat? Anders mag je ‘m ook wel teruggeven.”
Virella rolde met haar ogen en nam een slok. Met gevoel voor drama stampte ze nogmaals met haar achterbeen en sloeg voor extra nadruk met haar staart.
De ork sloeg zijn stevig uitziende armen over elkaar. “Ik hoop dat dat betekent dat je het lekker vindt.”
Om eerlijk te zijn was de wijn van goede kwaliteit, maar ze was niet van plan dat toe te geven.
Ze was met hem meegegaan omdat ze hoopte dat hij haar zou bedanken, maar nu begon ze te beseffen dat ze daar niet op hoefde te wachten.
Misschien was het arrogant om bedankt te willen worden, maar na alles wat ze voor hem had gedaan, alles wat ze had doorstaan…
Ze had hem op haar rug gedragen. Een ork. Een bedankje was wel het minste dat ze verdiende.
De kruik werd met een ruk uit haar handen getrokken. Grimslo draaide zich al om en liep weg, in zichzelf mopperend. “En daar verspil je dan goede wijn aan. Ondankbaar wif. Maar ja, an wif est an wif, obh sie nu perd est obh nikh.”
Virella sprong naar voren, plotseling ziedend. “Jij – jij ork,” riep ze woest, en greep hem bij zijn schouder. Haar witblonde krullen zwiepten om haar hoofd toen ze hem heen en weer schudde. “Ik ben ondankbaar? Besef je wel wat ik allemaal voor je heb gedaan? Ik heb zeven colleges gemist. Zeven. Ik mag Zeus op mijn knieën danken als ik niet ontslagen word. En dat voor een ork!”
Grimslo sloeg haar hand weg en draaide zich vol naar haar toe, zijn donkere ogen bijna zwart van woede. “Heb het lef niet op me neer te kijken, perdwif! Ik heb alleen genomen wat je me aangeboden hebt en ik heb je respectvol behandeld, maar je blijft op me neerkijken.” Zijn imposante borstkas bewoog snel op en neer en ze schudde haar hoofd, geïrriteerd. Dat ze zich daar nu druk om kon maken.
“Je bent een ork,” zei ze, vals. “Je steelt, je liegt, je bedriegt, en daarbij ben je gruwelijk lelijk. Waarom zou ik niet op je neerkijken?”
Ze was nog dichter op hem afgestapt in een onbewuste poging dreigend over te komen, maar nu realiseerde ze zich dat dat geen slim plan was geweest. Ze voelde zijn hete adem op haar gezicht, rook de zoete wijn en een meer dierlijke ondertoon die van hemzelf moest zijn. Van dichtbij was hij nog indrukwekkender – hij was werkelijk de enige tweebener die haar niet het idee gaf dat hij voor haar zou onderdoen in alleen lichaamsmassa al. Zijn grijsbruine huid spande over strakgespannen, opbollende spieren, zijn donkere ogen boorden zich in de hare…
In een vloeiend gebaar trok hij haar naar zich toe – ze stommelde naar voren, zo uit balans gebracht dat ze bijna over haar eigen hoeven struikelde – en kuste haar vol op haar mond.
Tot haar schaamte was haar eerste gedachte niet “Bah, ork!” of zelfs niet “Zeg, dat kan niet zomaar!”
Integendeel, elke bewuste gedachte leek uit haar hoofd gevaagd. Alleen fysieke sensaties drongen tot haar door – warm, zacht – nee, hard, glad –
Met een grom duwde ze hem van haar af en gaf hem een klinkende slag op zijn wang.
Hij keek haar aan, een zeldzame grijns op zijn gezicht. “Zoveel moeite heb ik nog nooit moeten doen om een wif bij de billen te grijpen.”
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, August 13th, 2004
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1:50 am - Hemlock: Mordred and his parents. Sorry.
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The boy was too young for this, much too young.
She looked at her son, trying to keep the growing desperation at bay. How could they go on like this? How could she ever have thought she could do this?
“Father?” the boy asked, his voice tiny. She winced at the word.
Her brother turned around at the sound of the boy’s voice. Even that secular movement screamed of suppressed violence and he glared, as he always did, lately. This world had not been good to him.
“What?” he all but growled, his voice rough from the stimulants he used too often. If only she would be able to keep him from that, maybe then they could try to be a family.
She laughed hoarsely at her silly thoughts. The problem had always been their being a family.
The boy opened his mouth to speak, but before he could ask his question he twitched and fell down, spasms raking his small body.
“No, not here, not in front of him,” she whispered frantically, jumping to the child in a flurry of hair and clothes, shooting an apologetic smile at his father. He shoved her aside. She fell down heavily but scrambled to her feet, anxiously keeping her eyes on him.
He was staring at his son as the child lay there, his thin body still shaking.
“What – is this nonsense still going on?” The man shivered almost as violently as his son, barely containing his aggression, all but falling apart before her eyes. Once he had been so strong, so secure. Once only her presence had been enough to calm him. This world had broken them beyond repair.
She shot a glance at her son – son? No longer. The magic that lay within his body had changed his form once more. He was so young that it was barely noticable when he wore clothes, but his slightly bigger eyes, the tiny change in his chin and jaw, the slightly more feminine tilt of his chin betrayed him.
“Brahan!” the man shouted and fell upon his child, no longer able to control himself – if he had even been trying. “I will have this no longer!”
She turned away from the man beating the boy – no, girl, truly a girl now. The child was tainted, her magic unpure; but she was still their child, and the woman could not bear watching her being punished.
She could not do this. This world had taken her and her brother and broken them into little pieces, shattered glass on hateful, iron-bearing earth – she could not watch that happen to her son. She would not.
Ignoring her child’s almost inaudible moans, the dull sound of his father’s fists hitting fragile bone and flesh, “Mother, please –”, she breathed in deeply and walked away.
She would not.
**********************
Ahaha, look at who I gave a horrible past. Sorry for the angst.
This was originally written for Father's Day, because I'm just that recalcitrant. So yes, that is Mordred.
Don't worry, Mordred's nameless mother will probably return. I don't think she could make it on her own, nor do I think her brother would let her get away with leaving.
Crossposted to their_world. That notion would ofcourse only be relevant if aurenfaie and maruchina would ever post anything. *looks sternly in their general direction*
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(comment on this)
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| Thursday, July 15th, 2004
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12:17 pm - Hemlock: Mordred and ze vampires
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She had not been fast enough.
Three men, no, four, one coming up behind her. How could she have let herself get trapped like this? Worse yet – how could she have let herself get trapped like this, wearing a much too short skirt and and awkwardly tight top, with only a purse for a weapon? What had she been thinking when she got dressed?
Ah yes, that’s right. She hadn’t been thinking. Instead she had let Donna talk her into dressing her up, saying that she should not hide such a gorgeous body in such wide clothes. Donna knew her well enough to know that a bit of sucking up and a few flattering comments were enough to make Mordred do whatever the hell the girl wanted, especially if it would lead to such pleasing results. Mordred was not interested in men, in this form or the other, but she got a kick out of leading them on, flirting with them and disappearing when she got what she wanted.
It had not for a moment occurred to her that perhaps she was more vulnerable as a female. She had not for a minute worried that the different form, with the wider hips and heavy breasts, threw off her balance enough without the help of awkward shoes and a skirt that would not really let her move.
She was still quick, she was still strong, and she still had a big ass knife; but she looked vulnerable now, and weak. She looked like prey.
( 'Well, well, well,' the man closest to her said. )
******************
Mordred is way too pleased with himself. Herself. This started out seriously enough, but no, she had to go and be sarcastic. Okay, so she's always sarcastic and four young vampires would never really scare her, but still. Also, yes, she is an evil bitch.
I'm not sure if this is canon - I don't know if we have vampires in this universe, or not. I just read too much Anita Blake and wanted to do something vampiry.
current mood: amused
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(4 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, July 6th, 2004
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3:39 pm - Mary Sue test Donna/Ree/Mordred
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( Mary Sue litmus test )
Finished? All right, tally up your points. Here are the scores:
0-20 points: The Anti-Sue. Your character is the very antithesis of a Mary-Sue. Why are you even taking this test?
21-30 points: The Non-Sue. Your character is a well-developed, balanced person, and is almost certainly not a Mary Sue. Congratulations!
31-40 points: Borderline-Sue. Your character is cutting it close, and you may want to work on the details a bit, but you're well on your way to having a lovely original character. Good work.
41-50 points: Mary-Sue. Your character needs some work in order to be believable. But despair not; you should still be able to salvage her with a little effort. Don't give up.
51-60 points: Über-Sue. You've got one hell of a Mary-Sue on your hands here, and it's not going to be easy to set things right. But do your best. There may be hope for you yet.
61 points or more: Irredeemable-Sue. You're going to have to start over, my friend. I know you want to keep her, but no. Just no.
Mordred: 30
Ree: 23
Donna: 23
Phew, within the safety ranks. Mordred is cutting it close, but he’s still within the safety ranks. Hnyeah.
current music: Skunk Anansie
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(comment on this)
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| Wednesday, June 2nd, 2004
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10:36 pm - Hemlock: Donna/Mordred first meeting
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Donna glanced around, nervously pushing her ash blond hair behind a long, pointy ear. She felt awkward without a hat to cover her tell-tale ears up, but she had purposely come without one. This was Hemlock, the one place where she wouldn’t have to hide her less human traits. Technically speaking.
A tall, darkskinned man winked at her, smiling broadly. It took her a while to realise that the smile was too broad, his teeth entirely too big and pointy. She tried to smile back at him, but her face would only grimace. “Right,” she muttered to herself, suddenly not so sure this was a good idea. She could always cover up her ears and live among humans the rest of her life. Did she really want to step into the fey underworld?
Sure, the elves seemed pretty enough from a distance, but she realised all too well that looks were deceiving and she was not so naive to think that they were the only fey on Earth. The exiles from Faerie were monsters and outcasts and if you looked at it like that, the fact that she was of their blood really was not good enough a reason to go through with this.
She chewed on the insides of her cheeks. It would be nice to have a job once, though, a real job and a real apartment and who else would hire someone so obviously fey as her? Sure, on the streets she did a fairly decent job of hiding it, but she couldn’t think of a job that wouldn’t require her losing the hat and colorful clothes. There was no way she could hide her ears, tail or disproportionate limbs in industrial clothing. One look at her would send customers screaming.
She grimaced. She was hardly the right person to be talking of monsters.
( You’re new,” a voice said in her ear. )
****
Crossposted to their_world.
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(11 comments | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, May 26th, 2004
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12:34 am - Hemlock: Mordred/Ree first kiss
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“Go away, boy,” Ree snapped. Mordred laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that affected her even when she did her best to ignore it.
“I’m hardly a boy, Ree. I thought you’d figured that out by now.” He was smirking in such a way that she knew his words had a double meaning, but she was unable to recognise it. It infuriated her even more.
“You’re barely a century old,” she said, her voice cold. “That qualifies as a boy.”
“Are these excuses really helping to make you forget your lust for me?” he asked, smiling affably.
“I despise you.”
He laughed outright at that. “I know you do,” he said as he stepped closer to her. It annoyed her to no end that she noticed how his voice had lowered. “Why don’t you just admit you want me?” he continued, that infuriating grin still on his lips. He was not even fazed by her glare. How could he not be? Queens and commanders had cowered from that look.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” she hissed and immediately regretted the visible outburst. It only amused him more. “I could never give in to you.”
His eyes widened and a real smile broke through on his face. “Is that so?” he asked, his dark eyes sparkling. “I’ve been going at this completely the wrong way!”
She rolled her eyes. “No, seriously?”
He ignored her comment. “Ree, I dare you. I say you cannot claim me. I challenge you to try.”
“You don’t seriously think I’ll fall for that, do you?” she demanded, baffled.
Mordred was still smiling. “I assure you that from now on, I will not give in to any kind of affection from your side. As I said, you won’t be able to seduce me in any way or form.”
She stared at him, trying her hardest not to look perplexed. He looked back at her from under lowered eyelids. “You can try me,” he suggested lazily.
He did not seriously think she would fall for that, did he? And still...
Since she had met him the man had done nothing but surprise her. Every time she thought she understood his way of thinking and thought she could predict his next move, he would switch tactics. But instead of learning from experience, she had continued to treat him in the exact same manner. Perhaps the only way to come out on top was turning the tables on him.
He was standing too close already. Ofcourse, in a popular nightclub like this one, people were always forced to stand in eachother’s personal space, but Mordred was doing it on purpose. Instead of being angry about it, though, she had better use it.
She glided closer to him, carefully tried a seductive swing of her hips and then thought better of it. She had never used her body in a battle of wills before, had never needed to do so, and frankly, she sucked at it. Most elves had a natural sensuality that they used in and out of season, but she had never been like that. Her words and her looks had always been sufficient.
She was too close for her own comfort, now, and suddenly she was not sure that this had been a good idea. Mordred’s dark eyes were fixed on hers, the look he gave her sending a shiver down her spine. This was a mere boy, she told herself frantically, a girlish boy who was more arrogant than kings could afford to be, who had been taunting her for weeks, who really should be put in his place. To her annoyance she noted that he was absolutely calm, that lazy smile still on his face as he stood there, waiting for her to make a move. Finally she gripped his shoulders and pressed her body against his, her eyes locked on his face.
Faster than she had expected him to be he put his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth opened in surprise and ofcourse he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in and kiss her thoroughly.
Her first reaction was to kiss him back and it took all her willpower to refrain from doing so. Some instincts were impossible to banish completely. Her feelings were battling for dominance, emotions much deeper than the irritation and anger he always provoked in her. Would he – should she, if – ... This should not be happening!
She pushed him away from her with a savage snarl so unlike her that she shocked herself. Mordred was smiling smugly, looking so composed that for a moment she wondered if anything had happened.
“You’re despicable!” she hissed, clenching her fists tightly.
“You won,” he stated, that enraging smile still on his face.
With a last furious snarl she twirled around and stalked away, painfully aware that it was taking her too long to collect herself. She had to get him out of her sight or she would never be able to get her wits together again. That lowly bastard should not be able to get to her like this.
“Don’t you want to collect your prize?” he called after her.
“Fuck you, boy,” she spat without looking back at him.
“Yeah, that was what I had in mind, too.”
**********
Heh, finally.
The claiming and daring thing might be kind of familiar if you've read my fanfiction, but this is not my fault *laughs sheepishly* This is just the way Mordred acts. Everything is a challenge for him and he likes to make it as hard as possible for himself, too. Poor Ree. She does not deserve this, even though she is a cold bitch.
*coughs* Figures I finish romance scenes first. Although this isn't very romantic, yet. I've got loads more planned in this universe, but Mordred/Ree action just amuses me. Comfort writing (why yes, I am totally stressed out over assessments and deadlines).
Crossposted to their_world.
current mood: busy
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, May 24th, 2004
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9:34 pm - Mordred questionaire
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| Sunday, May 23rd, 2004
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6:21 pm
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Draco Malfoy impatiently shook an almost empty bottle so that the last drops of fluid in it would join with the murky green potion that he was stirring with his other hand. The liquids contacted with a bang and smoke erupted from the cauldron. Draco kept stirring until eventually the smoke cleared, revealing a very pale, almost white fluid.
He smirked smugly. Finally, the invisibility potion was ready! It really had been a brilliant idea to look in that particular grimoire in his father’s library. At last he had a counteraction to that bloody Potter’s invisibility cloak. No more would the Boy Who Should Have Died have that as an advantage to him.
He stirred the potion until he was sure it had cooled down enough and then siphoned it to a small flacon. He had not made much; if a teacher caught him brewing potions outside classes, he would surely get punished. Not even a seventh year could get away with magic in the hallways, and although this was not a hallway, he suspected the rule would count for abandoned classrooms as well.
He looked at the pale liquid thoughtfully. Better try it out before he made a fool of himself in front of his friends. He didn’t think they would dare to laugh at him if the potion failed to work, but he’d rather avoid the situation completely. He had a reputation to maintain.
He raised the flacon to his lips. “To you, Potter,” he said in a rare lighthearted moment and took a decent swig.
The world turned.
Balance and perspective seemed to shift and flicker and he stumbled and fell, landing on his hands and knees. His whole body hurt. His skin burned all over his body, his musled spasmed and stretched, his bones seemed to shift and change shape regardless of the tissue covering it. His spine curled until it practically snapped and he bit back a howl. This could not be good.
When the pain finally subdued to a tedious ache, Draco found himself lying curled up as a ball on the floor. He had a bad feeling about this. Still, he reckoned, he should at least try and see if the potion had worked.
He started lifting his hand, groaned as it fell back out of its own volition and tried again, biting back the pain.
His hand was not visible anymore, he decided after staring at it for a long while. Instead, however, he was looking at a paw with off-white fur and sharp, retractable talons.
Shit, he wanted to say, viciously and wholehearted.
He meowed.
***
*coughs* No, I couldn't resist.
I've never written HP fanfiction before and I'm really nervous about it. Am much too afraid I won't be able to keep them in character. Still, this plotbunny won't let me go so... Eh.
Anyone willing to beta this little piece before I throw it on ff.net to get my head bashed in?
current mood: hungry
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(comment on this)
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| Saturday, May 22nd, 2004
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11:16 am - Hemlock: Mordred/Ree
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“You’re Ree.”
Mordred had finally cornered the blonde. From up close, she intrigued him even more. She was pretty, yes, but as practically everyone in this building, she had elf blood. They all could rely on some degree of beauty.
No, it wasn’t her good looks that piqued his interest. Something in the utter arrogance of the way she held herself made him think of fighting, beating, breaking. She presented a challenge and he had never been one to pass up one of those.
“Thank you so much for pointing that out. I can’t believe I forgot,” she said. Her low voice was cool enough to make the sarcasm christal sharp.
“You’re gorgeous,” Mordred said, not at all fazed.
“I’m an elf,” she replied, deadpan. She had the ability to make her comments sounds sarcastic without using the ‘Duh.’-tone. Remarkable.
“You’re gonna be mine,” he stated, keeping his voice emotionless, like hers. God forbid they’d show any feelings, he thought to himself and grinned.
That fazed her. “I’m not,” she replied in the same cool voice, but he’d seen the flash of surprise in her eyes before she could control it. Apparently the stuck up missy hadn’t simply been claimed before.
“Just wait,” he told her. He shot her one of his seldom grins and disappeared in the crowd. He could feel her eyes on his back, but he refused to look at her again.
**************************
Really short and really not working. I can only hope I'll get into the habit of writing in English on original pieces.
Crossposted to their_world
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(10 comments | comment on this)
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2:29 am - Ree questionaire
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( Yes, that means a survey filled out by Ree. )
Am trying to get into my characters' heads. Geesh, did Ree turn out to be ambitious or what? Not sure if she'll ever succeed, though.
Yes, this belongs in the same universe as that Rosie bit. And yes, there are bits and pieces of story on Ree and Mordred that I'm working on. I'm just really busy right now and the scenes are not finished yet, so you'll have to wait a bit longer before I post them.
current mood:  tired
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(comment on this)
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| Monday, May 17th, 2004
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11:29 pm - Repost: Rose at the dentist
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“Well, she does have exceptionally large canines,” the dentist said, hesitatingly.
“I’m a vampire,” Rosie announced, grinning, and bared her teeth at the man.
“Do you think maybe they could be, I don’t know, shortened, one way or another?” Hannah Black asked, toying with her daughter’s unruly brown curls. Annoyed, Rosie pulled her hair from her mother’s fingers and rolled her head back until she could see her mother upside down. She stuck out her tongue, squinted and giggled.
“Well, we could probably file them,” the dentist suggested. He gently pulled Rosie’s mouth open and fingered the offending teeth. “That, or lose them completely, but new ones’ll be expensive.”
Rosie bit down hard.
The dentist made a choked sound and pried her mouth open with his other hand, pulling his fingers free. She had bitten right through the thin, rubber gloves, breaking his skin. A brilliant red pearl of blood appeared on the second knuckle-bone of his index finger. “Well, they’re exceptionally sharp as well,” he said, his eyes a bit wide.
Hannah glared at her daughter. “What did I tell you about biting people?”
“My teeth are fine,” Rosie declared sharply. “I don’t want him to file them or pull them out.”
The dentist nervously avoided to look at her and shrugged his shoulders at her mother. “They’re not in her way, so there’s no real need for me to do either. If she’ll change her mind when she’s older, we can always do something about it then.”
“I won’t change my mind,” Rosie stated. “My teeth are cool.”
Her mother sighed. “Fine then, if you’re sure it won’t cause her any trouble.” She pulled on her daughter’s arm to get her to sit up. Rosie, irritated, shook her hand off and jumped from the chair on the ground, limber as only a ten year old could be.
The dentist led her and her mother out, shaking his head at Hannah’s previous comment. “No, her teeth are in great condition. Just make sure to check in every six months. As I said, we can always do something about it if she changes her mind.”
“Okay. Thank you very much,” Hannah said, flashing him a pretty smile, and ushered her daughter out of the dentist’s office and into the waiting-room.
“I’m a vampire,” Rosie announced again and growled in her best impression of the undead creature of the night. Her mother cast an apologetic look to the people waiting.
*********************
First bit for maruchina, aurenfaie and my joined-universe thing. This is Rose, one of my characters, when she's still a kid. I'm having all these ideas about how she grew up and stuff *grins* She only joins my other characters and the whole world thing when she's sixteen or seventeen, though. I had wanted to make her older, but she insisted on being a teenager. Well, fine.
The writing is probably lousy on this one. When I'm writing fanfiction, my brain is immediately in English mode. For original fiction, however, I keep on thinking in Dutch and having to translate. Feel free to correct all spelling and grammar mistakes you can find.
And no, this is not locked. Nothing in this universe will be locked, I think.
Crossposted to their_world.
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