mara_sho has officially announced the The White Knight Awards Round 4 Winners.

Let me congratulate all the winners on my FList, including annakovsky, bastardsnow, crazydiamondsue, entrenous88 (Best Overall Author, chica! Double congrats!); fiareynne, keith5by5, julia_here, lit_gal, lwbush, nemo_gravis, nwhepcat (And double yay! The Ballad of Carl Whitman, the Remix/Redux of my story Revelations that she wrote last year won something!); redrikki, sunnyd_lite, as well as anyone else on my Flist that I might have missed.

Here are some pretties that I got under the cut:

( Pretty Plaques Under the Cut )

Congrats to the other winners again, and a big "thank you" to mara_sho for again organizing the awards and making the plaques.

Remember when this LJ had fanfic?

Yeah, me neither.

Life got so hectic that I completely lost Eva's voice for Facing the Heart in Darkness a little bit. (I called it: "Eva's pouting in the corner because she got bumped by my need to pay bills and have a life.")

I tried picking at a few other things (like *cough*Water Hold Me Down*cough*), but really didn't get too far on any front.

I then attempted to barrel through my sorry-I-haven't-finished-your-birthday-present-yet story for nwhepcat/annual holiday tale/slayerversathon commitment story in an effort to write through it. (Got a lot of Behold, Little Padawan! done already, but have an ending that still needs to be capped on.)

Today, Eva started yammering again. Hooray! She wasn't helping me clean up the next part at all, but I at least got her talking about the ending. I'm hoping I'll have something to send up this Friday, but I make no promises.

I'll be over here. Feeling relieved.

I think it might have been the Jake 2.0 marathon on Sci-Fi that shook things loose.

I honestly was pretty busy yesterday and didn't suffer the trauma from LJ outage that occured yesterday. I tried to sign on in the ayem, saw there was a power issue with SixApart, and then headed off to do erands.

Ahhhh, weekends. The only time when I can get crap done.

Which is why I'm posting this today instead of yesterday.

People, negative FB on a story is okay. No, really. It is. I don't take offense. As long as the FB is politely worded, you're not putting words in my mouth (i.e., seeing something that isn't there or claiming I said something when I didn't), trying to impose your fanon on my fanon, or dragging past wanks that have nothing to do with anything into the discussion, I'm perfectly cool with it.

( When is negative FB good FB? )

I know, I've raised far more questions than I've answered in this tl;dr musing on "good" vs. "negative" FB.

On the whole, I think the issue of FB is a delicate balancing act. I don't just mean in giving appropriate FB, but in appropriately responding to it.

Anyone out there have any thoughts on the matter? I'd love to hear from you and what you think about this issue.

Hey, guys! Remember this one? Now that RL has stopped kicking me, I can finish it. Yaye!

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge byludditerobot.

All previous parts can be found here.
Continued from Part 47.

My jaw dropped and I stared at him.

Mr. Harris folded his arms and his grin got wider.

That’s when I finally figured out his game.

“You bastard!” I exploded.

For the Scatterings and Orphanagers Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

All previous parts can be found here.
Continued from Part 46,

I took a breath. “Well, I do have some thoughts on this matter, but it might be difficult to—”

Mr. Harris held up a hand. “Whoa. Before you jump in with your hot idea, I want to list the obvious options first. Then we’ll talk about whatever’s on your mind, because I want to hear what you have to say. First, though, we really need to look at the London option.”

*joke* I swear that boy is just thrilled he finally gets the spotlight. *joke*

The next part should be up in a few days. Sooooo close to the end. Sooooo close. It's looking to settle in at 50 or 51 parts. Yay!

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

All previous parts can be found here.
Continued from Part 45.

Alexandrienne turned around to face me as Mr. Harris grinned and gave me a friendly wave.

I blinked in surprise at the gesture, as Mr. Harris and Alexandrienne turned back around. As his arm settled once more around her shoulders, it occurred to me that perhaps I did have something to offer after all. Mr. Harris may be able enough in his own way, but it was equally clear that he had a lot to learn about being a Watcher that would pass muster with the Council.

The only question I needed to settle to my satisfaction was whether such an offer would be tempting enough for Mr. Harris to accept.

Then I had to decide if I had the stomach to put that offer on the table.

You didn't think I forgot this, do you? I'm way too close to the end.

Don't forget to sign up for the Dark Xander Fic-A-Thon set for October 8. Click here for details.

Also, The Muli-Fandom Character Mini-Soundtrack Project is still live. Click here for the MP3 downloads.

Now to business.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

All previous parts can be found here.
Continued from Part 44.

“Ordered, pleaded, begged, bribed, you name it and he tried it. He all but danced a jig and sang show tunes to get them to talk,” Dave said. “No dice. Lips were zipped and the three eyeballs that existed between Willow and Harris just got hairier the more Mr. Giles tried to get around the subject about getting treatment for Liwaza. It was one hell of a tug-of-war.” 

“That Mr. Harris and Miss Rosenberg won?” Yes, I know dear reader. I was being rather thick about the strange interpersonal dynamics that exist even to this day between Mr. Harris, Mr. Giles, and Miss Rosenberg. I simply couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the notion that two Watchers acted like petulant children and publicly treated the First Watcher as if he were a foolish relative that they held in low regard. 

“They got what they wanted,” Dave answered softly. “I wouldn’t say they actually won.” 

Hoooooot.

I originally ran errands and came back to an apartment that's a sauna. So, my evil plans (or not so evil, which included answer email, writing email, and Part II of a writercon report) is put off until the sun goes down because...hoooooot.

So, since this is done, I'm posting and running into someplace airconditioned until my apartment cools off.

As promised, due to the warnings on the last part, I'll do a very short summary of Part 43.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot

All previus parts can be found here.
Continued from Part 43.

“Eva, I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear.

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. Tell me you heard something else.”

“Is it me, or has this become a very dark ride?” Dave sounded so distant as he said it.

“You did. You heard something else because they won,” I sobbed into his shoulder.

Dave’s voice was almost gentle as he replied, “No, I didn’t.”

“Lie to me,” I pleaded through the tears. “Please. Lie to me. Please, tell me they won.”

 

Right.

Warning for mentions of "off-screen" rape and gang rape.

Warning for dark Xander and dark Willow.

Warning for torture that some may consider graphic.

For those who wish to avoid, I will summarize the main point on why this part is important with respect to the story's conclusion.

Apologies for not warning about this back at the beginning. I honestly spaced on doing this because it doesn't happen "on screen;" it's mentioned but not described; and it doesn't happen to one of the main characters.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

All previous parts can be found here.
Continued from Part 42.

“What did he see?” I impatiently asked.

Dave turned his haunted eyes to me. “That’s when everything really went wrong.” 

*blink*

Every time I use the RTF interface, there are more icon thingies across the top. LiveJournal Video? The hell? Apparantly, it's to allow people to embed You Tube videos in LJ entries.

Anyway, I apologize for being rare this week. There was PowerPoint rage and trying to sort out the mess that is this part. I know there's a million emails I haven't answered and I apologize. I'm desperately trying to get this completely posted in a reasonable amount of time so I can go back to other stories.

RL...it's not just for people...

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 41.

In either case, I knew that shoving Dave in the direction I wanted him to go wouldn’t help me. A gentle push was called for. “If you tell me, I’ll eat Grandmother Touré’s food.”

 Dave regarded me. “Eat first, then I talk.”

“I’ll eat while you talk,” I counter-offered.

Dave winced. “Not a good idea. You’ll lose your appetite somewhere in the middle.”

“I rather doubt that,” I honestly replied.

For a brief moment Dave seemed torn. He finally broke. “At least you’ll get some food in you.” He glanced at the door. “Good thing we’ve got time,” he added in mutter. “Harris is a little bit busy.”

Reading my notes and the files, no doubt, I thought. I rather viciously hoped that every word he read would cut him deep enough to make him bleed.

“Well, then,” I prompted.

Dave walked over to the tray of food, picked it up, and delivered it to my lap.

My deal had been accepted.

There are days that I rather wished it hadn’t been.

Ummmm, WOW!

I expected some of you to be calling "dickhead" on Xander for pulling what he did on Eva, but the level of anger directed at the guy took me by complete suprise. 

I'm in total shock. Seriously. But then again, it could be because I know (and have already written however roughly, by the way) Xander's motivations. Although, I'm not entirely sure that the angrier readers are going to be completely mollified because, yeah, Eva is still forced into a position she really hates. 

All I ask is that you keep one thing in mind: Eva at the outset of this story not only warned you that something like this was coming, she also said that Xander double-crossed Giles and that he did it in such a way that Giles couldn't (or didn't) do a damn thing about it.

I'm not upset by the reaction, mind you. Just jaw-droppingly shocked. I admit though, I'm actually kind of thrilled by it. I must be doing something right because all the points raised have actually be answered in the mess I've got on my hard drive. So, thank you everyone for the FB (even if I didn't answer any in the last part) because you're at least telling me I'm heading in the right direction.

The reason why I haven't responded to FB on the last part is because that would require me giving away the end and I don't want to do that because I'm rather proud of it. I won't say anything, except to say that the story and Eva, in a very strange way, comes full circle.  

If you're interested, I did post a general response here. Unfortunately, I really have to leave it as the last word for now. Like I said, I don't really want to give anything away.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 40.

Dave shook his head and turned to leave. Grandmother Touré paused just long enough to grin her toothless grin and waggle a finger at me, as if I was the one who had been naughty, before she, too, exited behind Mr. Harris’s stalwart man.

Left alone at long last, I finally gave in to my impulses and let my brave mask drop.

I put my face in my hands and sobbed.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 39.

Knowing that I was vanquished, I stopped fighting before we reached the last house at the edge of the village.

My fate was now firmly in Mr. Harris’s hands. If his harsh attitude with respect to myself was anything to go by, I knew that he was not inclined to be gentle with me.

First, big love and thanks to jgracio and cccarioca for fixing my very, very bad Bablefishian Portuguese. Friends don't let Friends go Bablefishin'. Just sayin'. They were awesome for coming through. Doesn't help the English readers out there, but at least the Portuguese readers get an early warning for what's in store.

*am evil*

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 38.

“This is ridiculous,” I hissed. The situation had already spiraled out of control, and it only promised to get worse. I knew that the longer we delayed, my current predicament would be nothing compared to the what Mr. Harris and his people would find when they returned to what was left of their homes.

“Se você ferir o Sr. Harris, teremos que impedir a Ally de a matar!” Maria shouted at me. “Não entende?”

That’s when the vampire seemingly came out of nowhere and attacked us.

Off to eye appointment at an awkwardly scheduled time and then busy all day.

In the meantime, new part!

ETA: In the meantime, I want to give a big thanks to jgracio and  cccarioca for fixing my horrible, horrible Portuguese. Remember people, friends don't let friends go Bablefishin'.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 37.

I shivered. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” This was said more as a hope than a statement of fact. To be honest dear reader, the more I thought about it, the more certain I was that the shadow I saw was a human sneaking across the village in a hunched-over manner. “I’m most likely jumping at shadows.”

Mr. Harris smiled warmly at me and I felt a strangely reassuring touch on my back. “Don’t sweat it. Better we jump at shadows than them jumping at us.”

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 36.

“I really am sorry about this,” Mr. Harris assured me quietly. “You have no idea how sorry I really am.”

I answered him in a tired voice. “But you don’t have a choice in the matter.”

He startled. “What? No. Oh, no. There are choices.” He then sadly smiled. “The problem is that all the choices we’ve got really suck.”

Ahhhh, they let me out of work early today for a half-day. I crawled home and fell asleep. Then I woke up and decided to post the next part.

After I post here, I plan to crawl back into bed.

Anyway, hopefully my schedule will even out a little bit before the chaos that will take over my life at the beginning of May. Oh, goody. A few days' respite. *headdesk*

Anyway, I'll try hang on to wakefulness long enough to finish answering comments from the last part, but you might have to wait until tomorrow. I'm fadding a little fast right now. Also, I apologize if my responses to those of you I did respond to last night sounded off. I blame exhaustion for robbing me of the ability to form words in anything resembling a coherent manner. I'm usually a less weird about my responses to FB. 

*cringe* 

I'm sorry if I made anyone feel uncomfortable. 

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.

Continued from Part 35.

“I know you don’t think this right now,” Mr. Harris said in a reassuring voice, “but you really did make the right choice.”

Needless to say, I was far less sure on that point. As Mr. Harris began to close the meeting, I felt my eyes once again drawn to the Dogon mask. My desperate imagination tormented me as I considered its feral expression. For a brief moment, I thought sure that its jaws were on the verge of opening to swallow me whole.

Gah! Got home at 10 p.m. from work. I'm too wired to sleep, but I'm exhausted at the same time. Deadline is tomorrow. I suspect I'll be very late in gettig home. 

*grumbles about deadlines that are unrealistic*

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge from ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 34.

Mr. Harris then held out his right fist so it was parallel to the left. “This is all of our Slayers. Even as we speak, they are sneakily surrounding our bad guys and waiting for the sun to go down. When the assorted bad guys make a run for Joe, we’ll be right on top of them. They’ll be dusted so fast, they won’t feel the stakes.”

I cleared my throat. “Why not attack them now? While the sun is still up?”

It appeared my question had struck home. Every eye in the hut swung to Mr. Harris. I credited the distinct feeling of electric panic to the fact that I had easily spotted a problem with his plan.

This part was slightly too long to post in one fell swoop. The second part will be posted tomorrow night.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challange by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 33.

Ahhh, but that is in the future. Let us now return to the dark history of Gao and how, in the long-reaching shockwaves of what happened there before my arrival, gave Mr. Harris all the tools he needed to set his cunning trap. A trap, I might add, that irrevocably altered my future.

Sorry this story is taking so long. It's very, very tough to find five minutes to rub together these days. (Hates on Tax Season and Hates on Me for procrastinating on doing my taxes).

Anyway, my nifty new Xander Mood Theme set is courtesy of kornpeep. If you want to snag it for yourself, go here. If you want to get a good look at what the whole thing looks like without downloading it, you've got to check out the pretty.

I promise I will get back to everyone who gave me feed back on Refugees on Sunset Boulevard over the next couple of days. I was trying to get this part out (that stupid lack of five minutes together thing I've been wrestling for two weeks). I feel so cut off from all of you. I've barely had time to look at my FList.

Plus, the time change is hell on my sleep schedule. I can't seem to wrap my head around it.

I just want everyone to know, that the main points in this part really were written back in December. The fact that the timing between this and the current controversy over illegal immigration in the U.S. that has resulted in some pretty massive protests is just a weird quirk.

Also, you might notice a mention of Algeria here and some set up for that story (which I also owe). I do still plan to write it, but not until I'm done with Water Hold Me Down. I even have a title for the Algeria story: Midnight's Clear. Don't know if I'll keep it, but that's the working title. 

You might be interested to know, that naming this story Facing the Heart in Darkness was a last-minute decision. The original working title was In a Culture of Masks as a reference to Dogon Country in Mali (where Dave is located), but the title was changed when I changed part of the story's setting from there and kept it closer to Djenné.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 32.

“If we’re done talking about my life of occasional crime in the name of truth, justice, and not getting eaten by the minions of whatever big bad decided to take over world starting with my hometown, I’d like to go back to Gao,” Mr. Harris said.

( The war we fight is not against powers and principalities. It is against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope and the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender... )

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challange by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 31.

Mr. Harris wasn’t insulted, most likely because he did not understand my reference. “Maybe. Maybe not. All I can tell you is that once I started paying attention to the moments that come after, I haven’t been wrong yet about anyone.”

I studied Mr. Harris a moment before saying, “Well, I look forward to seeing this principle of yours applied to a real-life situation.”

Mr. Harris grinned. “I’ll see what I can do about giving you a practical demonstration.”

( I don't want you to be sorry. I don't need your pity. I don't need anybody's pity. All I know is that I'm tired of being controlled. Controlled by others, by fear, by my past, by what everybody else expects of me... )

My Remix is done and coded. All I can do is let it stew so I can do a final read-through with fresh eyes and to test the final coding on it. My test coding looked good, but there are a couple of word choices I have to play with, which means more testing of the coding before I'm completely happy with it.

And yes, I wrote it in less than 20 pages. Shut up. I'm capable. Not often, but I'm capable.


( Remix Nail-Biting )
Also, it's looking like it's workaholic week for me, aka, project on a tight deadline. So, between the irritating slight sinus headache indicating that spring is indeed here (not complaining too loudly...I'll take the sinus headaches over the hellish allergy reactions I used to get when I was younger) and the hours I expect to rack up, I'm not sure I'll get a part in every night. I'll try my best, though.


( Sex At Work! )


For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 30.

Although I was not fond of my current tactic of overhearing conversations, I had to admit that it had borne some excellent fruit. However, I had much to think about before I could use any of the information to further my own goals.

( I always say, 'When you reduce a family tree to a family bush, you just can't hide as much beneath it...' )

This is my "Friday" post a little late. I have to work on heavily editing my Remix entry, so odds are I won't be posting anything until Wednesday or so.


For the Scatterlings and Orphanagers Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 29.

I didn’t bother to wash, and instead simply threw on my clothes from the day before. I was out the door within 10 minutes. As I crossed the open space to the medical tent, I saw Mr. Harris standing in the doorway of his hut. He was watching me with the threatening eye of a hungry wolf.

FYI: No geckos were harmed in the writing of this part.

For the Scatterlings and Orphanages Africander Fiction Challenge by ludditerobot.

For all previous parts, go here.
Continued from Part 28.

As I prepared to make my escape under the cover of the noise and darkness, I heard Dave say, “Just so you know. We’re cool.”

Mr. Harris sounded very relieved when he said, “Good.”

( There's nothing about that in the literature... )

 

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... )