For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge from [Bad username or unknown identity: ludditerobot.]

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 27.

Then it occurred to me that Mr. Harris had mentioned other cases and other names and had said that he, Dave, and these other people were something new, something the Council didn’t believe truly existed. Then I recalled that he said it was happening the all over the world, and not just within his Malian kingdom.

Dear god, I wondered. What have I stumbled upon? I sat transfixed in the dirt with my filthy hands, unable to move, unable to breathe. I knew then that I was wrong. Dave was not the one who would be altered by this conversation. I was. I already had been, thanks to Dave’s suspicions about the First Council’s cavalier treatment of Slayers.

As for what would come next, I could only guess.

I've changed Kendra's origin back to Jamaica — when I say "changed back" what I mean is I was hard-pressed to figure out where that accent actually came from. Hunh. Guess I should've listened to the commentary. 

S'okay. It was only a minor point and can be fixed. It's annoying, but it can be fixed. Thanks to learnedhand_djand rowaninfinity for pointing it out my error before I did a stupid thing.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 26.

“Goddamn it, Dave!” Mr. Harris shouted. “Don’t you get it? Something changed. Something somewhere got broken.”

“If it ain’t the Council that got broken, then I ain’t interested,” Dave said. There was a harsh scrape of wood. “They’re still around, so I don’t think—”

“That’s just it,” Mr. Harris harshly interrupted. “Giles thinks the Watcher bloodlines are broken, and with it Council’s hold over the Slayers.”

( Who are you? .... It's a dangerous question, isn't it? There's never a good answer to it. I suppose that's the point... )

*peeks out from behind the curtain*

*squeaks*

*runs behind the curtain only to get shoved back into the open*

*shyly waves*

Hello to everyone who just friended me, and, unh, my, there's a lot of you. Thank you. I just friended you all back.

I'm usually slightly more interactive as person than I have been in the past month (*kicks Africander fic*) but I'm cleaning the story as I go so I've actually been staring at word instead of being actually, unh, friendly. Apologies.

Please feel free to look around. I don't often lock posts (I think maybe five times in two years), so everything is pretty much open for inspection.

Pleasedontbite.

Well, you can bite, but only if I ask for it.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 25.

I grinned in anticipation. No doubt that I would be positively shocked and suitably horrified before Mr. Harris was done.

I take no comfort in the fact that I was right.

Before Mr. Harris was done, I was horrified.

Not because he lied, but because he told the truth.

( And like all secrets long kept, we cannot bear the shame of admitting it now... )

Ahhhh, a Xander-iffic-ish post. Sort of. 

First, I want so show much love to crazydiamondsue for her Ode to Xander S1&2. It'll leave a smile on your face and a song in your heart because...*sniff*...it's Xander. Go and read, if for nothing else than the parade of Xander LJ icons in comments. *sniff*

Then entrenous88 made me go *guh* this ayem with some de-loverly recent pictures of NB. He be looking fiii-iine. As in 10 years younger fine. As in, "Holy shit! You look gorgeous!" fine. *fans self*

The whole thing reminds me of the infamous "Xander is a hottie" thread on a now-nearly dead BtVS discussion board when a whole bunch of us discovered that at least half the Xander fans on said board were female. We had been so brainwashed that the "only" Xander fans out there were male, that we all thought we were weirdos for liking the character. Hell, we were made to feel like weirdos back in S5 and S6 for being female and liking Xander as a character. I can't begin to tell you how many times the assumption was made that I was self-hating gay male back in those days, an assumption that still puzzles me to no end. 

*checks breasts* 

Yup. Still there. 

See? This is why I love all of you. You make me feel less weird.

Finally, let me hate on all of you who have Monday off. Some of us still have to work, you know. So no rubbing it in.


Right. There's a story part in here somewhere...

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 24.


I had no choice.

I would have to face my greatest fear: the village’s communal commode.

( Your friends need what you can be when you are no longer afraid, when you know who you are and why you are and what you want, when you are no longer looking for reasons to live, but can simply be... )

Grrrr.... I truly hate the new RTF posting interface that ELJay has. For some bizarre reason, ElJay Cut Text option is more than a little messed up, which means I have to go back and insert it by hand in edit mode after I post the fic up. I don't use RTF for my normal posts, but it's necessary for my fic posts.

Apologies to all for the momentary blip of a too-long un-cut post to everyone on my FList. It will be fixed within seconds of the posting. I promise.


( Some quick notes on story schedule )

This part is a little nerve-wracking for me to post. As I explained above, when I first blew through this part, I didn't think too closely about how I was saying something. It appeared that my Id had taken control of my hands and, well...

Anyway, when I re-read this for editing and polishing, there was more than a little eeeeping on my part because, I swear, I don't remember writing this part like that. So I tore it down and re-wrote the whole thing.

The problem was the polished part said what I wanted to say, but it didn't show it as well as the original. I've debated back-and-forth and forth-and-back about it.

In the end, the original won. I kept the parts that made me go "Eeeeeep!" and merely polished up what I had.

In short, Id-girl won out. When Id-girl wins, creepy-ness and a little squickiness is sure to follow.

You've been sort of warned.


For Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 23.

My conscience would be clear. I would stop a dangerous man before he irreversibly harmed the Council or posed a threat to its work in Africa. I would allow a second potentially qualified man a chance to become a Watcher. I would help the health clinic and school plant their roots more firmly in the soil of Mali, to the point where the Council would have to tread carefully to uproot either one.

I smiled.

I knew I would sleep the sleep of the just that night.

( Signs, portents, dreams. Next thing you know we'll be reading tea leaves and chicken entrails... )

It is with great sadness that I read Andreas Katsulas died today at age 59. Most of you Babylon 5 freaks know him as G'Kar, the character who really was the heart of the whole show. 

( Remembering Katsulas on Babylon 5 )

So far, Bill Mumy (damn, I do love that man) is the only one who has a personal message up on his Web site, although to be fair, not everyone on the cast even has an a Web site. 

So, in honor of Katsulas, today's Babylon 5 ElJay Cut Text Quote is one from G'Kar. As it so happens, it's very appropriate.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 22.

Mr. Harris’s sudden change in demeanor left me confused and intensely worried for my personal safety. He had gone from open friendliness, to malevolent anger, to weary acceptance in the course of moments, with no hint or warning when one emotion would supplant the next.

I mumbled my agreement to do as he bid, and quickly turned to escape the hut and my close proximity to a man that was clearly unstable. As I crossed the threshold, however, I couldn’t resist one final look over my shoulder.

Instinct guided my eyes to the carved hyena mask on the wall and I shivered at the sight.

( You have let them distract you. Blind you with hate. You cannot see the battle for what it is. We are fighting to save one another, and we must realize we are not alone. We rise and fall together, and some of us must be sacrificed if all are to be saved. Because, if we fail in this, then none of us will be saved... )

Looooong day ahead, so I'm putting this up now.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 21.


“I would think that Mr. Harris would want to talk to Dave first, since he will be traveling this evening,” I remarked.

Dave waved a hand to indicate that he was perfectly fine with the order. “Harris and I will probably be talking awhile since we’ve got to plan everything out. It’s faster to talk to you first.”

“If you say so,” I responded doubtfully as I got to my feet.

“I’ll take care of the bowls,” Dave said. “Better leave the damp cloth on wrapped around your wrist for awhile.”

I looked down at my wrist in surprise. I had utterly forgotten that the cloth was there.

( You do not make history. You can only hope to survive it... )

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 20.

Yet, Dave’s revelation — just the latest of so many I had received in the course of our conversation — caused yet another suspicious tickle in the back of mind. Why, I couldn’t say. I shoved it aside and promised myself to think more on it later.

“This I’ve got to tell you, though.” Dave leaned forward with beatific smile. “I’ve got to tell you how I met Kavitha.”

 

( In trying to help, I have sacrificed all that I was, and all that I am... )

Soopah sekrit to nwhepcat : Ooooo! Pretty! Thank you for the card!

Okay, I lied a little. It's been a writing kind of night and this was ready to go.

Besides, I want to get back to Xander's creeping and increasing presence as much as the rest of you. And I wrote the damn thing.

Also, there's a nor'easter coming our way that's going to make our lives miserable. So much for my fun weekend. I get to be trapped inside my apartment and (*gasp*) cleaning it instead.

(sticks fingers in ears and sings 'la-la-la-la' as I ignore doing my taxes because I know I'm going to owe again this year)

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

.

[Unknown site tag]“It was so quiet,” Dave said in whisper. “It so very, very quiet that I thought I had gone deaf. From all that noise to nothing. No evidence that anything happened, except for these two complete strangers staring down at me like they weren’t sure what they were going to do about me.” 

 

( And what are you? Alive. Everything else is negotiable... )

I know, I know. I only posted Part 18 a few hours ago and already here's the new part.

However, I just found out that my beloved Arrested Development is going to have its 2-hour send-off Friday from 8 p.m. to 10 p.m. This, of course, will be followed by Battlestar Galactica.

( Cut for undignified Arrested Development squee )

Will I be going anywhere near my computer tomorrow night? Will I even come close to my computer tomorrow night? Hell, no.

Plus, I have a very packed weekened ahead, so I'll be very scarce on the computer front then, too.

So, I figure: Part 19 is scrubbed and ready to go, I might as well post it now.

( Some quick apologies for various things, like Water Hold Me Down )

Just FYI, Dave's part is long, but he's laying down a lot of information about the bigger issues Xander's facing. Issues that, ironically enough, neither he nor Eva are completely aware of.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 18. 

“Yeah, I know,” Dave agreed. “But I didn’t want to lose the opportunity, see? I thought I had to strike while the iron was hot and people were still willing to talk. Everyone was so squirrelly about the beheading issue, I thought for sure that come the morning they’d try freezing me out again. Anyway, it gets dark before I’m halfway back to where I was staying and suddenly, lo and behold, the spirits of the dead themselves show up and they are hungry.”

I held my breath. This was obviously when Mr. Harris, Alexanrienne, and whatever Slayers were in their company descended upon the scene and saved Dave from a most unpleasant fate.

( Low. Quick. Muffled. Terrified. It comes. It comes. It comes... )

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 17.

My quick tour of the important facilities within the village now complete, it was time to visit the mysterious Grandmother Touré.

 

( A curious answer from one who taught me that a half truth is the worst kind of lie... )

Ooooo, check out what I did on my lunch break. I think I'm just a little too OCD and organized for my own good because...daaaaaammmmmnnnn that's a lot of tags.

Yes, I have fallen prey to the evil Del.icio.us for organizing my fics. At long last, I can organize everything by fandom, fanon 'verse, and I have a central location for linking to all my fic. Yay!

( The Evils of Del.icio.us...And How It Keeps Ya Humble )

I can't believe I wrote so much scriptfic back in the 1990s. I suck. 

Now for some story.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 16.

 

If I have to choose a point at which Mr. Harris’s triumph was assured, I would have to choose this moment. It was here that my own unconsidered option, small missed opportunity, infinitesimal stumble, and microscopic mistake set me on a collision course with my fate.

 

( This is a very strange place you have here... )

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 15.

Just as my despair ratcheted up another notch, I heard the sound of a motor engine approach and the crunch of tires in the courtyard outside.

Mr. Harris had arrived.

( I told you before...No one here is entirely what they appear. If I surprised you, all the better... )

Ewwwwww. Still sick as a dog. Honest to god, I will look at replies for the last part as soon as dragging my sorry ass to the computer doesn't hurt.

Some quick notes on names:

Alexandrienne is the French feminization of Alexander, both meaning the same thing. (protector of mankind). Honestly, picked it because it was a feminization of Alexander, so the meaning is kind of immaterial here.

Bunmi is a Nigerian name that means my gift.

Liwaza is a Swahili name that means consolation.

Kosoko (Bunmi's husband) is a Nigerian name that means no hoe to dig a grave. 

Oh, and I keep forgetting to mention: All my cut-tag quotes come from Babylon 5. Seems fitting, no?

I'm not OCD. Not. At. All.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 14.

As we continued along our bumpy road to fate, I tried with all my might to see a solution to the conundrum before me. Yet, no matter how I turned the matter over in my mind, I could not see how a happy result was at all possible.

( Boom. Boom, boom, boom. Boom, boom. BOOM! Have a nice day... )

Urghhh. Nasty stomach bug today. *bleh*

This winter could not be more unhealthy...

Also, just some big love to speakr2customrs for his suggestion that our dear Miss Swithin just might be a closet addict of American soaps. I couldn't resist throwing it in. Thank you for the suggestion, because it works so well.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 13.

“Yeah, it’s a good thing there’s a bunch of us around who can help with the load,” Sister Ig continued. “But Harris is pretty good at making do with what he’s got, and he’s had to make do a lot, especially at the beginning, not that it’s gotten any easier. We’ve got different issues now, and none of us have any idea how we’re going to handle it when the hammer comes down.” She spared me a glance before fixing her eyes on the road. “Harris has got a plan. If it works, it’ll solve a lot of our problems. If it doesn’t…” her voice trailed off.

I must admit, dear reader, Sister Ig’s dangling thought filled me with foreboding.

 

( The universe is run by the complex interweaving of three elements: energy, matter, and enlightened self-interest... )

*yaaaawwwwwn* Can barely keep my eyes open...

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 12.

 

As Sister Ig shifted the jeep into drive, my mind was busy on other matters. My most immediate concern was how I was to pretend that I had been affected by the bissap without overdoing it. The last thing I needed was to fend off uncomfortable questions from a physician in Mr. Harris’s employ.

( When there is good news we always ask if it's true, because it is so difficult to believe. But when there is bad news, we rarely inquire because it's so easy to believe... )

Wheeeeee! Another late night, but since I'm up anyway, here's the next part for Wednesday. Sorry for the delay all. RL is kicking my butt.

Promise I'll get to the typos later this week. *grumbles about my long week and it's only Wednesday at 12:01 a.m.*

It's hilarious the amount of care I put into picking out the African names, or it would be if I wasn't a sad little OCD girl. "Sule" is a West African name for boys meaning "adventurous."

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 11.

“Remember my porn star t-shirt?” Sister Ig asked. “I was being completely serious about that. So, why don’t we wait until you’ve got the hang of shopping Djenné-style before we let you help.”

 

( That they are better than they think, and nobler than they know. They carry within them the capacity to walk among the stars, like giants. They are the future. And we have much to learn from them... )

FYI: This year's remix challenge is up. Aside from ludditerobot 's Africander challenge, this is the only fic-a-thon I'm planning on doing this year. After the remix and Africander, that's it for me. I have to finish what I have on my plate (see list to the right). Then I have to sit me down and start considering some things on the fiction front and other RL issues.

( About the Remix )

Right, on to story...

Okay, lots of local color in this and the next part. I obviously misunderstood the parameters, because I threw in a little travalogue here. As far as I know, the local color is as accurate as I can get it, thanks to numerous online backpacker diaries, Michael Palin, and numerous photos of Djenné.

And yes, the bit about the doves in the Tapama courtyard is true. I couldn't make any of this up if I tried.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot

For all previous posts, go here.
Continued from Part 10.

Radar apparently had enough of my breaking the rules. As I heard the shower sputter to life, Radar simply turned his back on me, yanked the bedcovers off the bed, wrapped himself in the blankets, and promptly laid down on the floor with his back to me.

“Tell Ally she can have the bed, yeah?” he said shortly. “G’night.”

He refused to say anything more.

( There's no reason we can't use this situation... )

FYI: Due to a very long day and an expected late night working at the bookstore, Part 11 will be delayed until Sunday. Mostly because of brain-deadishness and eyecrossing. Apologies in advance.

Well, that and RL has been a bit hectic for the past few days.

 

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

And yes, the Mali Fetish Market is real. I found out completely by accident long after I had gloomed on to The Heart of Darkness as my template for this story. I just couldn't resist including a mention.

*fights off plot bunny involving Alexandrienne, Xander, and a visiting Willow shopping at the Fetish Market with a machete*

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 9.

Shaken by these words of the civilian Sunnydale survivors, and the reminder of Jonathan’s note, I then turned my attention to the profile of Mr. Harris commissioned by Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. In the dense, dry, academic language of the worthies who authored the document, a picture emerged that, if possible, was even more chilling than anything I had read thus far.

 

( Our job, as always, is simply to state the facts and let the truth attend to itself... )

Oh how love szandara. Let me count the ways! She so perfectly encapsulated my rage at this story in the Boston Globe, that I only want to say: "What she said."

If you ever want to read an infuriating story about rich, white boy, entitlement, it doesn't get any more blatant than this. Grrrrrrrrrr. Let's just leave aside the fact that there appears to be a significant population of male students who seem to be doing fine in AP classes and making the honor roll despite this alleged "gender bias" in favor of girls. No point in letting the facts get in the way of a good lawsuit.

My favorite quotes from Mr.-Everyone-Is-Against-Us-Boys:

Among Anglin's allegations: Girls face fewer restrictions from teachers, like being able to wander the hallways without passes, and girls are rewarded for abiding by the rules, while boys' more rebellious ways are punished. [Emphasis mine.]

[snip, snip]

''The system is designed to the disadvantage of males," Anglin said. ''From the elementary level, they establish a philosophy that if you sit down, follow orders, and listen to what they say, you'll do well and get good grades. Men naturally rebel against this." [Emphasis mine.]

AUGH-AUGH-AUGH!

Urge. To. Kill. Rising.

Have we mentioned that Mr. Entitlement's father is lawyer who wrote the legal complaint? Grrrrrr.

Ahem.

Enough ranting. I needed to get that off my chest.

On to the story. I think you should all know that if you've been following along, you've read 90 pages.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 8.

I decided that since I was already feeling low, I might as well complete my study of Mr. Harris.

 

( The innocent lie because they don't want to be blamed for something they didn't do and the guilty lie because they don't have any other choice… )

The previous part was definitely an exercise in "live and learn." I had always assumed that "East Cupcake" as a slang term for "the middle of nowhere" was a very common phrase. Hell, I grew up with it and everyone I knew used it, so I just thought it was one of those widespread things.

WRRRROOOOOOOONNNNNNGGGGGG!

Turns out that it just might be a New England-ism, or maybe even a Boston-ism. There were people in the U.S. who had never heard it until BtVS and thought it was a made-up term from the mind of Joss Whedon.

Hunh. You learn something new every day.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here or use the tags.
Continued from Part 7.

As we were called to board the bush taxi, my troubled mind kept nibbling at ever-darker speculations about the nature of Mr. Harris’s hold over his people.

 

( Trouble will come in its own time, it always does... )

*sigh* I am such a putz. Instead of working on my closing scenes for this story, I sat down and watched the first episode of the first season of The Amazing Race. (CURSE YOU NETFLIX!) It's got all these...these...cool extras and...

Okay, I missed the first two seasons of TAR back in the day, but it's now my appointment TV. Us armchair travelers have needs, too, you know.

Of course, I'm completely stunned at how different TAR1 looks compared to, say TAR7. There's definitely a lot less coddling of the racers here. It's amazing just how much the racers were left to their own devices way back when.

Personally, I'm looking forward to the infamous "Guido Edit" that I've heard so much about in the final episode of this season. From what I understand, the logisitcal nightmare of that highlighted a huge problem. It resulted in the nefarious bunching that sometimes plagues the race so you don't have production strung out half-way across the globe.

But TAR1 is totally awesome to look at and...yay! From NYC to Zambia for the first leg. Now that's how you raaaaaaaace.

So it isn't that I'm ignoring comments, it's just that...it's TAR, damnit!

*ahem*

 

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge (hoping to catch up on my reading for that soon!) from ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 6.

My heart thudded in my chest. The import was clear. Radar was to watch me if Alexandrienne was otherwise occupied. Neither one of them was here to serve as my guides; they were here to serve as my guards. The nature of my onward travel into the country’s interior had suddenly taken on a sinister air.

“We wait for you in the restaurant,” Alexandrienne sniffed at me. “Hurry if you want food. We have to reach the bush taxi before it is full.”

She then barked something at the boy in that odd dialect. The boy got to his feet, gave me an apologetic shrug, and scampered after the Slayer as she regally swept out of my room.

 

( I concluded that humans are the most dangerous, because humans form communities…. That is your strength and it is that which makes you dangerous… )

A little early for tomorrow, but I'm expecting a very long day.

Gakked from, oh, everyone on my FList at this point. I'm such a sheep. ("BAAAAHHH!")

( TOP 10 (Plus 1) SIGNS YOU'RE READING A FIC BY LIZBETH MARCS )

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

 

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 5.

Although my arrival in Bamako was still an hour or so away by the time I finished reviewing the documents, I closed the file and stared out the airplane window into the darkening sky. The thought that I would be walking into the treacherous snake pit haunted me. I was unable to still the shiver across my skin as I contemplated the fact that I would be under Mr. Harris’s power when I stepped off the plane.

 

( Trying to think illogically about logical possibilities, or logically about illogical possibilities... )

Right. I'm too much coffee girl. Wheeeeeee! I'm so awake right now that my eyes are pinned open.

First...Ice Skating...Whoo-Hooo! Spangly Costumes and Cute Male Asses!

Spent a lovely day watching ice skaters in spangly costumes with ponders_life, szandara , and some non-LJ folks. Naturally, alcohol and Chinese food was involved. However, being the paranoid girl I am, I laid off the alcohol fairly early (after getting pleasantly buzzed) and spent the next four hours flushing with water and coffee.

Johnny Weir is a pretty little boy, but my heart belongs to Stephanie Rosenthal. She did her thing to Herbie Hancock. In a robot costume. I think I spent all day calling her "robot girl." I feel love just watching her.

And how can you not FLove Jamie Silverstein and Ryan O'Meara? I mean, seriously. Anyone that thrilled to get to the Olympics that they start jumping up and down and hugging each other because they're so shocked they made the cut makes you just wanna give 'em a medal. Awwwwwwww.

 

Goin' to WriterCon!

In other news, thanks to roomie arrangements with ponders_life and a good yearly review, looks like I'm a-makin' it to writercon! Yay!

 

Oh, right. You wanted more story.

Apologies in advance for not getting to comments. I'm busily polishing up the last of the pages for this little monster, as well as checking my French and another unnamed language and double-checking my facts for everything. Then there's the whole RL thing. Laundry, housework, and food shopping doesn't do itself, you know!

Plus, it was an emergency today. There were spangly costumes that needed to be mocked! Fine male asses to be drooled over! Booze! Chinese food!

I'm allowed a life, damnit!

[Gotta cut back on the coffee, man. I'm in hypersville right now.]

Poor Miss Swithin. *sniff* I almost feel bad for her. "Almost" being the operative word here.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanges Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 4.

I decided that there was no point in reviewing the material right away. I had the basics already. I could peruse the rest at a later time. I still had a week before my departure, as well as plenty of travel time during which I could familiarize myself more intimately with Mr. Harris.

( They are a profoundly unreliable pool of information on the best of days... )

Since I'm going to be out all day, I'm posting this part on the early side.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobbot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 3. 

“Thank you for the advice, sir,” I said. “I’d much rather avoid trouble, if I can.”

“I wouldn’t say that too loudly,” Mr. Giles said. “Whenever you do, trouble has a disconcerting habit of finding you.”

 

( Context is everything... )

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge from ludditerobot .

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 2.

“And if I go to Mali and find that Mr. Harris is wholly innocent of these charges, what then?” I asked.

Mr. Wyndham-Pryce relaxed, as if relieved that he would not have to carry out his threat. “I am very confident that you will discover something the Council would find worth delving into.”

 

( We have always been here... )

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Afircander Fiction Challenge from ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 1.

“I’m not as sure,” Jonathan said with knowing nod. “I know you don’t listen to gossip, but a few of the old boys aren’t pleased with the new direction. If they can find a way to make use of this, they will. You can be certain of that. Between you and I, I think Mr. Giles is being naïve.”

 

Posting this a few hours early, mostly because I feel like total crap. I suspect it's the awful New England weather that's to blame. I can barely stand upright and I want to cut off my own head right now because of the headache.

I'm not as done as I'd like to be on this, but it will be posted uninterrupted to the end since it is mostly finished. Yay!

Many thanks to the hearty souls who took a look at the early chapters to help me adjust tone: mara_sho, yma2, rileysaplank, gentle_thorns, and uninvitedcat 

Title: Facing the Heart in Darkness
Author: Eva Swithin as told to Lizbeth Marcs

Rating: PG for violence
Pairing: None
Spoilers: All of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel
Genre: Future fic, adventure, gen

Canon Character: Xander Harris
Apperances by Canon Characters: Rupert Giles, Willow Rosenberg, Andrew Wells, Roger Wyndham-Pryce
Main Original Characters: Eva Swithin, Jonathan Whyte, Alexandrienne, Radar, Sister Ig, Dr. Mboto, Nurse Riley, Grandmother Touré, David Johnson

Summary: Watcher Eva Swithin is sent to Mali to investigate what some Senior Watchers believe may be the greatest threat facing the newborn Reformed Watchers Council — Alexander Harris.

Disclaimer: Rupert Giles, Willow Rosenberg, Andrew Wells, Roger Wyndham-Pryce and all associated characters and organizations are the property of FOX and Mutant Enemy. Any mention of real life events and real people are done to serve the story and are not meant to imply that the incidents in question have any relationship to reality. All original characters and the plot are mine. No payment was asked for or received in the writing of this story and no profit was earned. No copyright infringement on FOX or Mutant Enemy is intended.

Author's Note: Written for the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.