So, I Wrote Another Thing
Feb. 23rd, 2005 03:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sadlikeknivesMy CW instructor made a comment in the margins of the last thing I got back that the style I chose was 'interesting' because I used mainly dialogue. I'm a little concerned by his use of the word 'interesting', but I get a feeling that as we go along, he's going to catch on that that's not a style I chose, it's just...my style. I can write conversation pretty well, I think, but action and setting are deeply problematic for me. I'd probably do well writing in script style, except that I think it looks horribly tacky most of the time.
This 'verse is pretty much going to be my CW-verse. I've dubbed it 'Age of Heroes'. The assignment was to write three beginnings, and together, the three beginnings tell a story. I didn't get it, but hopefully this will fulfill the requirements.
I. Mab walked into the common room.
She’d been here almost three weeks now. She was starting to get settled in, get used to people being around. She quite liked the people who’d come to her mother’s river and brought them here–Ethan, they were called, and Dee. Dee was kind of interesting, because from what Mab had picked up, true divinities weren’t allowed on Operation Steel, and yet Dee was one of the founders.
Oh, yes, she knew who Dee was. The last name, Linnaeus, and the almost always present bottles of red wine gave that game away.
Her mother picked her up and kissed her cheek. “All right?”
“I woke up and I couldn’t find you.”
“I’m sorry, baby. Mr. Linnaeus needed to speak to me for a few minutes.”
Mab blinked at Dee. “Oh. I’m sorry to bother you then, sir.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
II. Mab walked into the common room.
Everyone looked up when she came in. It wasn’t much of an ‘everyone.’ Most people were either dead or in the medical center. But everyone looked up, worry in their eyes. This was the first time she’d been off sedation since Toronto went up with her mother still in the middle of it.
Dee was back from...wherever his brother had taken him. Presumably Olympus. And he still looked like hell, but it’s a better sort of hell than he looked like when Mab first appeared in Toronto and asked if he could stand long enough for her to get him out of there. She knows he knows now that whatever her other half is, it ain’t human. He studied her through tired eyes, and raised a bottle of Riesling to his lips. Mab couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him drink white wine. Brandy, sometimes, but almost never white wine.
She crossed the room and curled up on the other end of the sofa from him, all tucked in around herself. After a long moment of silence, he said, “Miss McNamara.”
“Sir?”
“We need you.”
She studied her thumbnail. The purple polish was chipped, badly, and she couldn’t seem to care. She wondered vaguely how it had gotten chipped. Pushing the rubble off Anna? When Greyson had knocked her hand away and screamed that he would do his duty? She said softly, “I thought you had to be twenty-one to join the Op.”
“We’re down from sixty agents to twenty-three. And most of those are alive because of you.” It had all come down to her speed. Anna, Dee, Trace, Jamie. She’d gotten them out. Pollux had survived on his own, and the rest had taken her at her word and bugged the fuck out. Screaming that a prophecy god had told her to get them out of there worked, but only on the less determined. The more determined were...well. Dead. “We need you.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
“So you’re in?”
“Of course I’m in.” Her lips tried to twist into something vaguely like a smile. “What else would I be? This is all I’ve got.”
III. Mab walked into the common room.
She smacked Moses Lawton’s feet as she went by. “No feet on the tables.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Check this out. According to US, you’re dating my brother.”
Mab peered over the teen’s shoulder. “Your brother’s gay.”
“They don’t know that.”
Mab turned toward Auri as he said, “Catch,” and grabbed the bottle of Evian he’d tossed across the room. “Thanks. Have I ever even been seen in public with Pollux?”
“Not to the best of my knowledge,” Dee said from the big, chair in the corner, where he’d apparently set up camp.
“There’s a picture,” Moses pointed out.
“I think it’s a composite.” Mab took the magazine from the teen’s hands and tilted it. “Yeah, this photo of me is like, three years old. And that’s Poll’s new haircut.”
“Are you sure you’re not dating him?”
Mab threw an orange at Auri, who caught it telekinetically before it came even close to him, and sent it bobbing back to the fruit bowl. “I’m sure. Women notice these things. So where do I sue?”
“Don’t sue,” Dee advised. “That’ll just make things nasty. Make out with Auri the next time you’re around the paparazzi.”
“I’m not gonna make out with Auri. He has fairy germs.”
“There’s no such thing as fairy germs, Mab.”
“Fine, make out with Ben instead. I don’t actually care.”
“Gods, you’re cranky today.”
“His rooms are being fumigated,” Moses explained. “And he ran out of wine about an hour ago.”
“I don’t like being sober.”
Mab rolled her eyes. “Our senior field agent, ladies and gentlemen. The sulky four-year-old.” Dee sent a vulgar gesture her way with his right hand. She looked down at the magazine she’d taken from Moses and turned the page. “Oh, look, there’s a picture of you guys in London.”
Moses pulled on the page so she could see, craning her neck around. “Really?”
“Yeah. There’s Dee, getting tossed into the National Gallery.” Dee squawked.
Moses said, “No, that’s Alex.”
“I can’t tell them apart.”
“They have similar hair.”
“We do not!”
“Yeah, you kind of do,” Auri drawled. He’d decided he wanted the orange after all, and was peeling it, mainly with his thumbnails. Not very effective, but if that was what he wanted to do, they weren’t going to argue.
“And my dad says you haven’t changed your hair since, like, the eighteen-fifties.” Moses froze as she realized what she’d just said, her eyes tracking toward Auri, who wasn’t supposed to know. “I mean. Um.”
Dee surged from his chair, and Moses scrambled for the door. “DIE!”
Mab and Auri stared at the door, swinging after their passage, and blinked a few times before bursting into laughter.
The End. Sort of.
Author's Note: For those of you still wondering, Dee is Dionysus. As we learned in Greek & Roman Mythology last week, 'Linnaeus' is one of his epithets. It means 'Wine-Bath.' How he wound up working for the UN is being covered in a journal piece that will probably wind up on here later.
...and now the kittens have knocked a lamp over. Fantastic.
Am off to study for Russian test.
This 'verse is pretty much going to be my CW-verse. I've dubbed it 'Age of Heroes'. The assignment was to write three beginnings, and together, the three beginnings tell a story. I didn't get it, but hopefully this will fulfill the requirements.
I. Mab walked into the common room.
She’d been here almost three weeks now. She was starting to get settled in, get used to people being around. She quite liked the people who’d come to her mother’s river and brought them here–Ethan, they were called, and Dee. Dee was kind of interesting, because from what Mab had picked up, true divinities weren’t allowed on Operation Steel, and yet Dee was one of the founders.
Oh, yes, she knew who Dee was. The last name, Linnaeus, and the almost always present bottles of red wine gave that game away.
Her mother picked her up and kissed her cheek. “All right?”
“I woke up and I couldn’t find you.”
“I’m sorry, baby. Mr. Linnaeus needed to speak to me for a few minutes.”
Mab blinked at Dee. “Oh. I’m sorry to bother you then, sir.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
II. Mab walked into the common room.
Everyone looked up when she came in. It wasn’t much of an ‘everyone.’ Most people were either dead or in the medical center. But everyone looked up, worry in their eyes. This was the first time she’d been off sedation since Toronto went up with her mother still in the middle of it.
Dee was back from...wherever his brother had taken him. Presumably Olympus. And he still looked like hell, but it’s a better sort of hell than he looked like when Mab first appeared in Toronto and asked if he could stand long enough for her to get him out of there. She knows he knows now that whatever her other half is, it ain’t human. He studied her through tired eyes, and raised a bottle of Riesling to his lips. Mab couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him drink white wine. Brandy, sometimes, but almost never white wine.
She crossed the room and curled up on the other end of the sofa from him, all tucked in around herself. After a long moment of silence, he said, “Miss McNamara.”
“Sir?”
“We need you.”
She studied her thumbnail. The purple polish was chipped, badly, and she couldn’t seem to care. She wondered vaguely how it had gotten chipped. Pushing the rubble off Anna? When Greyson had knocked her hand away and screamed that he would do his duty? She said softly, “I thought you had to be twenty-one to join the Op.”
“We’re down from sixty agents to twenty-three. And most of those are alive because of you.” It had all come down to her speed. Anna, Dee, Trace, Jamie. She’d gotten them out. Pollux had survived on his own, and the rest had taken her at her word and bugged the fuck out. Screaming that a prophecy god had told her to get them out of there worked, but only on the less determined. The more determined were...well. Dead. “We need you.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
“So you’re in?”
“Of course I’m in.” Her lips tried to twist into something vaguely like a smile. “What else would I be? This is all I’ve got.”
III. Mab walked into the common room.
She smacked Moses Lawton’s feet as she went by. “No feet on the tables.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Check this out. According to US, you’re dating my brother.”
Mab peered over the teen’s shoulder. “Your brother’s gay.”
“They don’t know that.”
Mab turned toward Auri as he said, “Catch,” and grabbed the bottle of Evian he’d tossed across the room. “Thanks. Have I ever even been seen in public with Pollux?”
“Not to the best of my knowledge,” Dee said from the big, chair in the corner, where he’d apparently set up camp.
“There’s a picture,” Moses pointed out.
“I think it’s a composite.” Mab took the magazine from the teen’s hands and tilted it. “Yeah, this photo of me is like, three years old. And that’s Poll’s new haircut.”
“Are you sure you’re not dating him?”
Mab threw an orange at Auri, who caught it telekinetically before it came even close to him, and sent it bobbing back to the fruit bowl. “I’m sure. Women notice these things. So where do I sue?”
“Don’t sue,” Dee advised. “That’ll just make things nasty. Make out with Auri the next time you’re around the paparazzi.”
“I’m not gonna make out with Auri. He has fairy germs.”
“There’s no such thing as fairy germs, Mab.”
“Fine, make out with Ben instead. I don’t actually care.”
“Gods, you’re cranky today.”
“His rooms are being fumigated,” Moses explained. “And he ran out of wine about an hour ago.”
“I don’t like being sober.”
Mab rolled her eyes. “Our senior field agent, ladies and gentlemen. The sulky four-year-old.” Dee sent a vulgar gesture her way with his right hand. She looked down at the magazine she’d taken from Moses and turned the page. “Oh, look, there’s a picture of you guys in London.”
Moses pulled on the page so she could see, craning her neck around. “Really?”
“Yeah. There’s Dee, getting tossed into the National Gallery.” Dee squawked.
Moses said, “No, that’s Alex.”
“I can’t tell them apart.”
“They have similar hair.”
“We do not!”
“Yeah, you kind of do,” Auri drawled. He’d decided he wanted the orange after all, and was peeling it, mainly with his thumbnails. Not very effective, but if that was what he wanted to do, they weren’t going to argue.
“And my dad says you haven’t changed your hair since, like, the eighteen-fifties.” Moses froze as she realized what she’d just said, her eyes tracking toward Auri, who wasn’t supposed to know. “I mean. Um.”
Dee surged from his chair, and Moses scrambled for the door. “DIE!”
Mab and Auri stared at the door, swinging after their passage, and blinked a few times before bursting into laughter.
The End. Sort of.
Author's Note: For those of you still wondering, Dee is Dionysus. As we learned in Greek & Roman Mythology last week, 'Linnaeus' is one of his epithets. It means 'Wine-Bath.' How he wound up working for the UN is being covered in a journal piece that will probably wind up on here later.
...and now the kittens have knocked a lamp over. Fantastic.
Am off to study for Russian test.
