My beta promises - fingers crossed and all that - that she will manage to beta my stories at the Spring Break, because they got them shitload of work in their schools right now. I can understand that, and as for me, I am dizziying my way through the practical side of thesis - or will be, as of tomorrow, and let's hope it will come out with minimum plotholes imaginable; right now I am not very happy I got myself such an difficult questionnaire to interpret, so this would take some time to get in a shape that I will be satisfied with enough to proclaim the whole affair over and done with. Seriously thinking on NOT going through the additional amount of schooling, because after I finish that, I won't be in shape to write anything so stuffy like this for some time.
On the front of stories, I finished another chapter of Among The Hawks And Doves - chapter numero Sexta, under the name Getting High - I certainly was on something when I was writing the thing, and then, two chapters of Fire And Ice are as good as dea - ahem, finished. Excuse me, I am feeling a little homicidal because the last chapter was a murder and a half to write. Back To Me counts as a tenth chapter in the series, while Riders On The Storm is lucky eleventh. Or torturous one? Will see what MHB says on that. The last one is a monster in its own right, and I just hope it didn't fall out too awkward, but as it is, it's finished and waiting on revision.
Somehow, I got myself another obsession in the shape of Fate/Stay Night - still have to watch through Unlimited Blade Works, but it seems to be pretty interesting, both story and characters-wise. This spawned two additional stories, one in the original 'verse, and another I went, in all my awesome stupidity, write in a crossover style. /Sweatdrops/ Jay-sus Christ, sometimes my brain is feeling very trigger-happy, and when it is, there is only one solution - grab something to write with and on, and then aloha, madness. Because I dithered long enough, I am now presenting some previews of my works mentioned in this yappy excuse for a post.
Among The Hawks And Doves
Getting High
Harry was just minding his business, meaning haggling with Yamamoto-san
for groceries. The old man was a farmer -
grumpy and old and constantly complaining on having sciatica that wouldn't go
away or his daughter-in-law or his son - his wife was already dead, and Harry
stumbled upon him via Naruto's bratty pranks. Old man Yama, as he asked Harry
to call him - only Yama part, the 'old man’
Harry added for his own amusement, to
see Yamamoto huff and puff in
irritation.
"Hell no, Yama-jiji. I
won't pay ten ryo for a measly daikon
radish!" Harry snapped out.
"See, it's dried out, old
and wrinkly, just like your ass, so
don't try to fool me!"
"You little twerp!" Yamamoto barked back, his bushy silver eyebrows twitching. "I will have you know this radish is
the finest quality - if anything, I am
letting you rip ME off!" He hacked a little as he stroked his long silvery
mustache, as his old eyes narrowed in mock-anger.
Harry tilted his head.
"Ripping you off? Old man,
have you gone senile or do you just love bad jokes? This daikon radish barely deserves the name
- even a cat's dick would be bigger
than it!" He barked back, making Yamamoto hack out his pipe in surprise.
"Wha - cough, cough - My daikon radishes are NOT
smaller than cat's dick!" The old man boomed, making the
passerby's eye him strangely,
before they hurried away from the crazy man.
Yamamoto blinked and then, it
clicked just what he had roared out.
Harry grinned at the man's half
irritated, half-amused face. "You
got this round, brat. So the carrots and some spinach…." He huffed
and hawed as he moved, wincing.
"Ahwoo, my old bones…. I am
old, too old for this shit. And you dare
to disrespect an old man like me…. Youth
these days…." He mumbled, shaking his gray head disbelievingly.
Harry sighed. "Right, I
apologize, Yama-jii. What about ginger cookies and some tea to get these old
nerves of yours in order?" He offered back, smiling slightly. Squinty eyes, like those of an old fox,
looked at him. "Two batches?"
The man inquired craftily, while he expertly bound the daikon radishes in a
small bunch.
Harry made an innocent face.
"Well, I had three, but if you insist on two – " Yamamoto
harrumphed. "I will throw in some
vanilla persimmons. Satisfied, you
greedy brat?" He grumbled put, peeved.
It was pure chance that Harry found out Yama-jii was addicted to the
ginger cookies - it was actually Naruto's fault. The brat was clumsy with one
of his pranks, the old man's nose was sharp enough to detect the scent of
ginger on the brat, and he managed to catch the kid before he made his escape,
dragging the foxy idiot to his caretaker, one Koizumi Akito.
Harry was prepared for the man to launch at him a lengthy diatribe on
the fox brat and annoyances, but
instead of that, the man thrust the mentioned fox brat at him and demanded to
be given some ginger cookies. (His wife had baked those for him until she died,
and his no-good daughter-in-law never did get them exactly as he liked them. And
coincidentally, Naruto smelled like cookies
which, by the way, he had managed to filch right off of Harry's plate.)
From that meeting with the ginger cookie whore – ahem, Yama-jii, Harry
had been buying most of the groceries here, as the man was not as prejudiced to
Naruto's furry little problems as the
other villagers were. And it did
help that Harry could bake some of the most delicious ginger cookies.
Fire And Ice
Back To Me
He closed his eyes as he carefully lifted the small porcelain cup to
his lips.
The bait had been snapped up desperately, just like they expected it
would be. Even if he, as Harry, didn’t know
Sirius much, he knew he was desperate for a family, and with the state the Light side was in, along
with the recent skirmish in Diagon
Alley, Antares had presented himself as
an ideal candidate to be allied to Order of the Phoenix, even if his methods
came across as a little too… unforgiving
for some people. And with him being a
Carruthers, the Dark and Grey side were thrown in a tumult of confusion,
flailing for anything concrete to hold on in a proverbial sense.
Carruthers’ name may have been disgraced, but their power and
prestige, even diminished as they were, were nothing to sneeze at.
He sighed with a faint disgust.
“Master? Is the tea not to
your liking?” Faustus asked immediately,
making the single eye turn to him. Antares shook his head. “Tea is fine.
Just my thoughts bothering me. “ He murmured back quietly as he leaned
forward to place the cup back on the tea table. He was intercepted by white-clad hand that
gently plucked the cup from his fingers.
“Everything will be alright.
You did prepare for this, Young Master.” Claude murmured back, his
golden eyes glinting behind the square-rimmed spectacles he insisted on
wearing.
“Tch.” Antares scoffed.
“Since when you were so very optimistic?” He
asked the spider butler archly, making a small smirk appear on the man’s
face.
“You forgot, Young Master.
Revenge is a… how shall I put
it… a demon’s specialty. And as much as I hate to admit it,
Michaelis is quite useful in that regard.” He murmured back politely as
he put the cup on the tray.
“So very demure,”
Antares snarked back. “Maybe
I should have contracted only Michaelis, then.” He suppressed a smirk at the almost
imperceptible tensing of the butler’s
shoulders. “That impulse-driven
crow? I am beginning to suspect your mental health had deteriorated again if you are speaking such nonsense, Master.”
Claude replied back stiffly, his
pride stung at the implication he was worth less than the kuroshitsuji who was
currently waiting on the…. guests… to
appear.
Dark eyebrow arched, but as he opened his mouth to reply, he was
interrupted by Michaelis entering the
room.
“Master, some people wish to have an audience with you.” The crow butler almost purred out, mocha-colored eyes glinting with mischief.
