mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,
mockturtle
hellblazer06

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thursdays, never could get the hang of thursdays


Sigh. Hopefully if you know how miserable I've been these last couple of days those who wish me ill will be satisfied and leave me alone for the rest of the week. I know, never going to happen.

I was so proud of myself on Monday, dragging my sorry arse into work, mainly just to scan Orlando pics will it was still dark outside for the Orlando fans who actually say thankyou. So gratifying that Orlando at least should have well mannered fans. I'm sure he'd be pleased. It only takes a thankyou to get me scanning, you know. So sad so few can manage it.

I was so pleased with myself, thought I was really doing well but by 2pm I was in enough pain to want to start gnawing on the end of my desk, and at 3pm I skipped off early home, which is just as well because by 5pm I was well into the screaming and throwing up from the pain portion of the evening. This went on until, well, now, actually. Just bunged a tape in and let it go on Monday night while I curled up in misery. Stayed home and slept until woken on Tuesday. Watched 24 and Buffy on tape in between interuptions and being sick. Took me hours. Then Buffy, more being sick, Relic Hunter, Farscape and another night from hell. Woke up when the vcr switched on for Angel and Angel really improves when you're out of your mind with fever and panadols. It was like watching it on a whole different level and I was so sick I was hearing music in the rain so you know, very surreal. It was the Fred episode so it was probably the best way to watch it. Before I as wondering whether it was Wes' idea to get Angel to feed Buffy the demon's heart in Earshot, now I'm wondering why it's okay for Gunn to kill the Prof but not okay for Wes to try and save the life of a child? Liked the Daredevil 181 reference, so sad I get that. The movie opens next week. I'm dreading it. One last week to cuddle up to my most beloved of comic books before it's ruined. And hey, if I have to sit through my Hornblower and Tolkien purist friends banging on endlessly about how losing line 14 on page 237 ruined the whole integrity of the piece, allow me to whine over a white man turned black, a Greek turned American, an American turned Irish and a redhed turned brunette and that's just the trailer and this book was so special to me. I wrote lame fan fic and everything.

Woke up drenched in sweat, gave work a miss (I've enough days in the bank) and slept until noon. Woke up feeling a little better, watched the X Files then turned green again. Had a sudden craving for Adventure Inc and the postman delivered (!). What can I say? I crave bad tv when ill and hadn't managed to fall asleep during a repeat of an ancient Bill, or even the Antiques Roadshow. Took me about five hours to watch two episodes of Adventure Inc, interupted by really being green and the Buffy prom episode - Wes looking way 007 in a tux. Adventure Inc is really, really bad, alleviated only by the subliminal ads for Lex, and the golden lighting of the golden boy in one episode that is always so flattering. Suddenly I remembered what I saw in him, lust, drool, dribble...ick factor. I see a trailer for another episode with Nigel from Relic Hunter in it and I get all excited. I am soooo pathetic.

By now Buffy has started and it's the one where Riley comes back. You know Buffy really sucks when you start missing Riley, but I do and this was cute and I liked the Nick Fury reference. After that it was Angel, with poor Wes falling into the abyss and nobody noticing, typical. Poor Wes. Loved the talking burger. Loved tough Wes. Loved crazy Wes. Just love the Wes. After that I flicked between Boomtown and Law & Order. At least Neal has lost most of that bad dye job. I like Neal and Donnie but the stories are blah and I realised that gimic is responsible for all those pov M7 stories I had to scroll through a while back and that's maybe more than is in my power to forgive. Meanwhile Lenny was tracking down another murdering cheating philandering husband but kudos for mentioning WTC insurance fraud cause I knew there would be, like after the Paddington train crash in the UK. People use disasters like that for all sorts of opportunity: insurance fraud, to cover up crime, murders, to disappear. Human nature, gotta love it. Nice unsentimental L&O episode, much better than the sap over on Boomtown - getting soapier by the minute.

Oh shit, I feel sick again. Like on Monday, I think I'll just run the link checker to look like I'm hard at work and edge my waste bin closer. Oh, and somebody's been sitting at my desk. I hate that.

10.10 am. Ah, my charming co-worker, the one who always picks on me. The one who disputes my illness between thin lips. Only because she had to do some of my job yesterday, oh dear. I don't see why she's complaining as any other day she reckons I don't do anything of note. Worse, she's running around marinanded in perfume that is making me gag. I don't know what's wrong with me but all perfume to me smells like a walk down the industrial solvents aisle at the supermarket and I'm already delicate, green and sensitive and hormonal. I don't need this and it's giving me a sinus headache and I don't want to take another pain killer because lying curled on the bathroom floor between bouts of vomiting in the middle of the night listening to the sound of a gutter I have to fix leaking heavy drops and thinking it sounds like temple bells might be fun for home but no good when I've got all these ministerial press releases to proof and post. Oh bugger, I hate my life. But not as much as I hate her for making my life just that extra bit more miserable, like the twist of a knife.

I'm cold. I want hot chocolate and cheesy tv. Whimper. Good thing I got my typing done. Though I have ideas there'll be no creative writing today with her huffing and puffing and bustling about. Now she's comandeered DM's desk because she's too important for just one PC, in her mind. To quote Xander: is murder always a crime?

Thankyou. She's buggered off for 'errands' and has promised to be gone for a few hours. Note to self: pick up offering to the gods on the way home as a thankyou. I feel better already. Have cleared most of my inbox, bar the stuff I have no idea what they want or why and they've yet to get back to me. Will see if I can't noodle out a little scene, then maybe another cup of tea. Will endure until I can go home and cuddle up with a cuppa and Judson Cross (and thankyou oh kind Biehn benefactor from across the seas).


  • New Songs, Old Message: 'No War'

  • In the Name of God

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  • India Begins Lost Temple Dig

  • You are now entering the fic zone. Abandon all hope all ye who enter here. The following is rated PG and is not suitable for children or persons of a nervous disposition. Oddly, this is the scene that inspired this fic, all those many years ago, where was I, Auckland? Anyway it was inspired by Jack always having to rescue Stephen from his birdwatching exploits. Didn't turn out quite so cute as the boys, but that's the inspiration, at any rate, jotted down watching the birds fly over Auckland harbour.


      Jack all but ran through the village upon his return through the heavy wooden gates, still wired on adrenalin and eager to tell Daniel about his adventures - the bad news about the Gate could wait - but when he called out "Hi honey, I'm home" as he swung into the hut there was no one there to answer.

      Damn. Now where the hell was he? Jack stalked through the village, his miming of 'had anyone seen where the crazy guy with the funny glasses had got to' still slaying them in the aisles - he guessed that one never grew old - but aside from cracking everyone up precious little information was forthcoming. Daniel wasn't kicking back with the elders or annoying the women by asking dumb endless questions as they worked and when Jack checked the hut again he found Daniel's pack was gone and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Please, please, please don't let him have wandered off on his own, but Jack knew deep in his heart that's exactly what the little idiot had gone and done. Common sense and self preservation were obviously recessive genes in the Jackson clan.

      Audibly cursing, Jack dumped his own pack on the floor, taking only what he needed: his weapons, a spear and water. He set out again in search of Daniel, hoping Daniel hadn't wandered off too far in search of whatever had taken his fancy. Hoping Daniel hadn't run into some of the monsters he'd seen.

      Several desperate hours of searching and scrambling through stinking jungle and Jack found the little fucker at last, just when he was about to give up all hope. He' stumbled through the trees and there Daniel was, like nothing had happened, completely oblivious to everything about him, just perched on a rocky outcrop on the shore of a large, volcanic lake, sunning himself and, Jack could barely believe this, birdwatching.

      "Didn't you hear me calling you?" Jack started angrily but Daniel just dismissed him with a shrug of a shoulder, returning his attention to the oval shaped lake.

      "Yes, but it's so beautiful here, just look -" he indicated the glittering waters with an expansive gesture. "I've been trying to draw some of the waterfowl I've seen, since my camera was ruined. I think I've discovered at least two dozen new species just since I've been sitting here."

      As if two prove his point two dazzling emerald and sapphire coloured butterflies danced by between them.


      "Daniel," Jack began, warming up to his cautions for dummies speech. "You can't just wander out here by yourself. It's very dangerous."

      "How dangerous can it be, Jack? I followed the women down here as they did their washing."

      Jack sat down beside Daniel, trying to compete with the Discovery special going on around them for his attention.

      "Daniel, they know this place, you don't. This planet isn't safe. There are crocodiles, spiders, snakes, poisonous plants and -"

      "Jack, I've been in the jungle before."

      Jack shook his head. Not like this. He winced for what he was about to say. "There are dinosaurs here, Daniel. Big ones."

      "Jack," Daniel shook his head, smiling. "Are you sure you didn't see a komodo, or an cassowary? Dinosaurs were extinct long before the Goa'uld started populating these worlds."

      "Daniel, dammit, just trust me on this. The bloody thing chased us all up a tree like a grizzly. It looked like a big fucking emu with teeth. You've seen weird critters before, you fucking made a pet of an unas, don't try to Scully me on this. I know what I saw."

      "A dinosaur." Daniel was giving him that smug little smirk of his. "With feathers."

      "All right," Jack stood up, peeved. "You don't believe me, then come back with me, I've got something to show you."

      "Jack," Daniel complained, wanting to spend more time by the lake birdwatching.

      "I'm not leaving you out here on your own, Daniel."

      Head hung like a dog, Daniel knew when he was beaten. He started packing up his gear, fully believing Jack had finally lost it, probably from sunstroke or something.

      Jack was standing over him, insisting he get moving faster, when they both heard it, that terrible thundering footfall, the one now permanently etched in Jack's nightmares.

      "Jack?" Daniel asked, shoving the last of his books in his pack and slinging it over his shoulder. "What was that?"

      "You seen Jurassic Park?"

      "Shit."

      Jack nodded.

      "Run!" He pushed Daniel forward and they scrambled desperately through the roots and vines that clawed at them, trying to hold them still for the monster that crashed through the jungle, having picked up Jack's scent again. They tore themselves free, tearing skin and clothes and uncaring in their mad dash to get back to the bolt hole cut in the wall of the village, falling through for it to be slammed shut behind them, the beast piling into the wooden poles with a terrible crash and angry hissing. The sound of claws scrabbling on wood nearly deafened them as the young men scurried up the fence whooping and throwing spears down onto the angry giant emu with attitude. The ancient creature thrashed and struggled and snapped those terrible jaws as it was speared again and again like a bull in a bull ring, one of the boys finally administering the coup de tate, bringing the beast to its knees and then striking it dead.

      More whooping followed as the beast was drawn inside the compound and butchered, huge chunks of lizard flesh being hacked off and handed out in a predetermined order, some families having a hereditary right to the tail or the liver.

      While all this was going on Jack turned to Daniel with his 'what did I tell you?' face.

      Chastened, Daniel said nothing, not needing to promise that he wouldn't wander off on his own again. Not with monsters like that prowling out there in the trees.

      Jack was amused as the carcass was quickly sawn down to bloody bones. It looked like there'd be giant, mean, chicken tonight, as well as arachnid.

  • Equilibrium

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  • Orpheus

  • Read first, then write, Motion tells authors
  • M7 fic part nine of nine, well, a bit thereof. The attempt at a threesome has turned into a rather unhappy triangle. I'm posting this because it's version two of the scene. I've just finished the fourth version and it gets nastier every time. Rated MA for scenes of a sexual nature.

    Buck felt himself drifting between them, like a leaf washed back and forth on the tide. His body reacted to the physical arousal but his heart and mind were nowhere, he just wasn't there and they couldn't touch him, at least not his soul. He felt itchy and dirty, he felt them crawling over his skin and he felt the moment when Chris spilled his seed inside him and knew at last he could try and pull away from them, gently disentangling himself as their hands went automatically to each other with him no longer between them. Ezra smeared his mouth with a hasty kiss, then he watched as Ezra turned to seal his mouth over Chris' and he saw that spark, and what was left of his heart broke into tiny pieces like the shattering of a lamp. He drew away from them without a word, refastening his clothing and retreating to his study, behind closed doors.

    Ezra invaded his sanctuary eventually, as Buck knew he would, Ezra moving so quietly so as to not startle his quarry or cause him to flee.

    "Ezra, get. I'm busy," Buck spoke without even looking up.

    Ezra sat down in front of Buck's desk, not willing to budge in an act of defiance that clearly annoyed Buck in a million little ways, all of which Ezra could read so clearly.

    "Tell me who you hate the most?" Ezra asked softly.

    "No one," Buck answered shortly, not wanting to get into this conversation. Not now. Not ever.

    In truth, Buck hated himself, hated his stupidity. He'd left Chris and Ezra alone together, rejected and hurting - what did he think was going to happen? Only he'd never expected it to be like this. There'd always been that spark between them, that hot flame that threatened to burst like a keg of powder, but now it was tempered with a sudden and surprising tenderness, a fondness and affection between them, an understanding at last. Whatever Chris had needed to bring him back into this world, Ezra gave it to him. Chris was alive and smiling in ways Buck hadn't seen in a very long while.

    Buck now faced the question: could he leave, like Ezra had, to give Chris what he needed? Could he sacrifice his happiness for that of his dearest friend?

    At last he understood why Ezra had left, and he envied Ezra's strength, and pitied the terrible heartache it must have caused him.

    "Tell me you don't love me," Ezra asked, almost in a whisper, studying Buck all this time.

    Buck was stricken. There was no way he could. Ezra was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him, Ezra had opened him up to so much, Ezra had changed him, they'd shared so much, good and bad. A love, a friendship like that was not easily cast aside.

    Nor could he walk away from Chris, not after everything they'd been through, both terrible and wonderful. He couldn't imagine a life without Chris, half his life he'd devoted to Chris, even if it was just staying out of the hornery bastard's way.

    "You don't know me half as well as you think you do if you think I'm going to let you go without a fight," Ezra instructed quietly. "My future doesn't belong with Chris. He's not the one I'm going to grow old with."

    "Me? You want to grow old with me?" The sudden declaration hit Buck like a slap, unsure of what game Ezra was playing.


    "Do you really think I came back to this shithole for anyone else? I've wanted to share everything with you, Buck, and I've tried so hard - and you know it goes against my nature to do so. I want you with me as my amour as well as my business partner, but I'll understand if you find my wanderings beyond forgiveness."

    "Ezra," Buck rocked back in his chair, emotions tumbling over each other.

    "You ripped my heart out, Ezra. You ripped it out but good and then it's like that's not enough so you go stomp on it a few times for good measure, but I know deep down you never meant to hurt me. I just - I just can't compete with Chris. Never could."

    "You won't have to," Ezra promised softly, his eyes glittering with unshed tears.

    That was when Buck saw it, the spark that was just for him.

    </ul>

     

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