ficlet: The Strong One (complete)
Oct. 19th, 2005 06:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlpirei was working on the next part of Broken, but then this came to me, so i wrote it instead. *sigh* that always happens.
Title: The Strong One
Author: Girlpire
Disclaimer: This story is based on the Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series, with which I am in no way affiliated. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Summary: Joyce has a strange experience while visiting her sister in Illinois.
Author's Notes: This story is set in April of 1980. Abeid means "He is the leader." Mugo means "He is wise." Walialu means "He makes things return."
Now this story gave me such a smile. Girlpire has written Joyce so wonderfully well, and she’s fashioned for us some very believable and entertaining backstory that fits so well into canon, in my mind. In reading, I’m reminded of what a strong and generous woman Joyce was, of how she met any situation and soldiered through it. I couldn’t help but feel so many emotions along the spectrum as I read, firmly entrenching my heart into each paragraph. This story is thoroughly imaginative, wonderfully written, witty and inspiring. The smile I wore as I finished the last line carried me through the day. That, for me, is wonderful. - From the judges at the Forbidden Awards
*
The Strong One
Separated again. She'd been sitting in front of the old Smith-Corona, typing a paper for her Ancient Art and the Modern Museum class when he'd come stumbling in, a smear of red across his lips and another "I'm so sorry baby, I can't help it, I'm weak" on the tip of his tongue. She was out the door before he could even say her name.
She'd gone to stay with her sister in Illinois, postponing the Master's degree. She just couldn't do it right now, newly married, behind on the bills, and Hank running around on her barely three months after moving into their new apartment. This was how it always happened: things between them got strained, he tried to forget his problems in some girl, and she walked out. Then he would come to her on his knees, under the weight of false promises, and she would take him back. She always did. She was weak.
She sat with Arlene at night, listening to her husband cursed, vilified, dismissed as just another bad decision in the heat of a moment. She nodded her head, watching the tiny marshmallows in her hot chocolate slowly dissolve into white swirls. No, he isn't good for me. Yes, I know he won't change. No, I shouldn't go back. But she couldn't make any promises. She did love him.
Her sister wanted her to move to Illinois. L.A. was a dangerous place. Lots of monsters.
She didn't intend to stay very long. Springfield was a nice place though, one of those big cities that feels kind of like a smaller big city. It was pleasant, the kind of place you could live and be content and go at least a couple of hours every day without thinking about your husband cheating on you. Hank called just about every night. Arlene kept hanging up on him.
About eight days into Joyce's visit, Arlene decided she'd moped enough. "Look, you've gotta get out some," she told her. "Meet new people, make some friends. Maybe meet a guy..." Off Joyce's look, she added, "Okay, so you're still married to that bastard. But if he can play around, so can you, right? I mean, this is the eighties! Women are entitled to just as much sex as men! Especially a couple of babes like us."
Joyce raised an eyebrow. "Us?"
"Well..." Arlene blushed. "It's been a while. I'm kind of... ready for action."
Joyce giggled. Then, "I don't know," she said. "I wouldn't feel right about..."
"Don't worry about feeling right, just feel good," her sister interrupted. "Or at least come out with me. Because... damn." She gave Joyce a significant look.
"Alright, fine," she gave in. "But I'm just going for moral support. I'm not looking for anything serious."
"Trust me," Arlene said, smiling. "Where we're going, you won't find anything serious."
An understatement, Joyce thought when they got to the club that night. It was called Coconuts, and the front entrance looked like a shrine to the god of pink neon. Definitely not a place to be taken seriously. They were barely inside the door when a muscular guy in tight white pants walked by and patted her on the butt. She yanked Arlene closer to her side.
"Are you sure you want to be here?" Joyce yelled into her ear, barely making herself heard over "Funkytown," which was blaring through the club.
"Come on!" Arlene hollered back. She dragged Joyce to the bar to order drinks, her giant loop earrings swinging.
Two hours, several cocktails, and six Blondie songs later (four of them were "Call Me"), Arlene was ready to go home with the guy in the white pants.
"You'll be alright?" she asked Joyce again. "Because I don't really have to..."
"Go," Joyce said. "You deserve a night to yourself. I'll be fine. Really."
"You sure?" Arlene was already inching towards the door, white pants guy in tow.
Joyce nodded. "You just have fun. And be safe." She smiled at her sister as Arlene gave the thumbs up sign and vanished, pulling the man after her.
She saw no point in staying at Coconuts, since she wasn't interested in meeting any men, and the place was too loud to sit and have drink by herself. She paid her tab, gathered up her purse, and walked out into the cool air, hoping honestly that Arlene had a good time with... she couldn't remember his name.
She started to hail a cab, but decided on a whim to walk instead. It was a pleasant night. She still had a small buzz going, and she thought it would be nice to move around a bit, listen to the city-at-night sounds she'd been missing. Visiting with her sister was nice, but she felt like she'd been cooped up for days. She walked along the downtown sidewalk for a while, frowning when she realized that she had been cooped up for days. She hadn't left Arlene's once since she'd gotten there!
How pathetic. Just because Hank was a... cheating little... little flea on a rat's... Was she going to let this ruin her life? No way! She clenched her fists as she continued walking. What right did he have to make her stay inside for eight days straight, crying? None! It wasn't fair, like Arlene had said - he could violate their marriage contract whenever he wanted, but she let it bind her? And THEN she had to sit around feeling sorry for herself when HE was the one who'd done wrong? She was upset that it had taken this long to realize she could allow herself to be angry and not just hurt. And boy, was she angry! It was time to start standing up for herself. Time to be the strong one!
She rounded a corner so caught up in her thoughts that she bumped right into a black man coming from the other direction. They both looked surprised for a moment, and then Joyce took a step back and said to him, "I am the strong one, damn it!"
The man blinked at her.
She gave him a look, just daring him to disagree.
She had enough time to wonder why he was dressed so funny before he hefted his long wooden staff and cracked her over the head with it.
When she came to, she thought she had gone blind. She tried to reach a hand up to her eyes, but both her wrists were bound to the arm rests of the chair she was sitting in. She tried not to freak out. Okay... where was she? She couldn't tell because she was blind! No... no, don't freak out... blindfolded. Okay, just blindfolded. She shook her head once and felt the material over her eyes. Okay. Blindfold. Good. No wait, not good!
She could hear two male voices nearby. They sounded like they were arguing. She told herself to stay calm. They probably just wanted... her purse. But if that was all, why had they kidnapped her? Ransom? Oh, God. Her life was shitty.
"...will be angry!"
"He will not. I have done my portion of our duty."
"This is the wrong girl! How could you be so ignorant?"
"She is the one, Walialu."
"But you did not perform the sacred rite. You do not know she is the one!"
"She is the one. I followed the path of my vision, and she made herself known to me. I do not need a sacred rite to tell me what is clear!"
"Do not be foolish, Mugo! We must release her."
"We will wait for Abeid."
While they argued, Joyce tried quietly to free her hands. It was no use. She was blindfolded and bound to a chair by two guys who thought she was someone else. She wanted to say something to them, but she had no idea what to say. Her head hurt. Suddenly, she heard a door open behind her.
"What is the meaning of this?" Demanded a voice.
"They kidnapped me!" Joyce quickly responded.
There was a pause.
"You weren't talking to me, were you?" Joyce asked.
"Abeid, I have found the one."
"This is not the one, Mugo. You have not performed the rite."
"Aha! That is what I told him."
"It would only lead me to her. She is the one."
"How do you know?"
"I followed the path of my vision. I was told to go to the Neon Palace to find the strong one, and on my way, I met the girl. She made herself known to me, so I have brought her here."
"And how did she make herself known?"
"She greeted me in the traditional Hishanni way and then identified herself as the strong one. She was very... forceful."
"I bumped into you! It was an accident!" Joyce protested.
"The rite is long and tedious. Should we waste valuable time confirming what I already know to be true?"
"We should do the rite. We cannot afford to make a mistake."
"Walialu has spoken. What say you, Abeid?"
Joyce suddenly felt a hand over her belly. Then a hand was pressed against the side of her head.
"There is a presence in her mind. It will end her life."
Joyce jerked her head away. "Excuse me?"
"She has time yet, Abeid. Time enough."
"You are correct, Mugo. She is a strong one." The hand pressed against Joyce's belly again briefly. "Her daughter will be strong as well. We will make it so."
"I don't... daughter?" Joyce stammered.
"We will not perform the sacred rite. It would indeed consume too much of our time on this plane. Besides, Mugo has never yet brought the wrong girl to us. Let us complete the ritual."
"I will trust your judgment, Abeid. And yours, Mugo. You are my brothers. But I do not think this is wise."
"It is our duty, Walialu. We will do it until the end. But do not fear, brother, for the end will come soon."
"Abeid, I fear not that the end will come soon, but that this child will be the one who brings it upon us."
"Maybe so. But do you not wish sometimes for the end, Walialu? I find myself grown tired of this shadow-life."
"I, too, grow tired, Abeid. But if this is the wrong girl, she may bring worse things than the end."
"Perhaps she will not be chosen."
"If she is the wrong girl, she will undoubtedly be chosen."
"Let us perform the ritual. What takes place takes place. I am interested now to see what type of girl she will become."
Joyce heard a loud thump then, followed by another, and then another. The thumping went on, as if all three men were beating drums. Their rhythm began to speed up.
She barely heard one of the men say, "We only know she will be strong," before Joyce felt something start to swirl around her, a thick mist circling faster and faster around her body. Her hair began to whip around her face, and the rapid thumping noise combined with the rushing sound in her ears until everything was so loud she could hear nothing at all. Then she felt the mist rush into her stomach. She screamed.
When she opened her eyes this time, she was standing outside of Arlene's front door.
She looked around.
She screamed again.
A few seconds later, the door flew open. "Joyce! Joyce, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Arlene pulled her inside. "Are you alright? Why were you screaming?"
"I... how did..." Joyce indicated herself, then Arlene, then the front door, then herself again.
"Eh?" said Arlene.
A million things were rushing through Joyce's mind at once. What the hell just happened? was the main thing, but also How did I get back here? and Who were those men? Out of all the questions she wanted to ask, she finally settled on one. "Where's white pants guy?"
"Oh, total loser." Arlene shrugged dismissively.
"Oh." Joyce wandered slowly over to a chair and sat down.
Arlene closed the door and followed Joyce. "Are you... alright?" she asked her again. "That was you screaming, right?"
"Yeah, I... well, I just. Wanted to see if you were home. What time is it?"
"It's nearly two. And you could have just come inside. Where have you been?"
"I went for a walk. Oh my God, I don't even speak Swahili." She had just realized this.
Arlene stared at her.
"I think I'll go to bed now," Joyce said, standing up. "And I want to go home tomorrow."
Arlene just nodded, still looking at her strangely.
By the time Joyce did get back home to L.A., she had decided to give Hank an ultimatum. One more chance. That was ALL. And she was dead serious. The next time, the very next time he fooled around with some bimbo, she was gone for good. She refused to be treated like a disposable napkin! She somehow knew this time she could make him believe her. She felt... different.
Joyce didn't find out she was pregnant until about three weeks later. She called Arlene to tell her the news. After the initial squealing excitement, they got right down to business discussing names.
"I want to name her something that means strong," Joyce said.
"Her? You think it's a girl?"
"I feel like she's a girl. I don't really know why."
"So wait, you want to give your daughter a name that means strong? Strong like... buff?"
Joyce could hear the distaste in Arlene's voice.
"Yeah," she said. "Something like that."
*
Title: The Strong One
Author: Girlpire
Disclaimer: This story is based on the Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series, with which I am in no way affiliated. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Summary: Joyce has a strange experience while visiting her sister in Illinois.
Author's Notes: This story is set in April of 1980. Abeid means "He is the leader." Mugo means "He is wise." Walialu means "He makes things return."
Now this story gave me such a smile. Girlpire has written Joyce so wonderfully well, and she’s fashioned for us some very believable and entertaining backstory that fits so well into canon, in my mind. In reading, I’m reminded of what a strong and generous woman Joyce was, of how she met any situation and soldiered through it. I couldn’t help but feel so many emotions along the spectrum as I read, firmly entrenching my heart into each paragraph. This story is thoroughly imaginative, wonderfully written, witty and inspiring. The smile I wore as I finished the last line carried me through the day. That, for me, is wonderful. - From the judges at the Forbidden Awards
*
The Strong One
Separated again. She'd been sitting in front of the old Smith-Corona, typing a paper for her Ancient Art and the Modern Museum class when he'd come stumbling in, a smear of red across his lips and another "I'm so sorry baby, I can't help it, I'm weak" on the tip of his tongue. She was out the door before he could even say her name.
She'd gone to stay with her sister in Illinois, postponing the Master's degree. She just couldn't do it right now, newly married, behind on the bills, and Hank running around on her barely three months after moving into their new apartment. This was how it always happened: things between them got strained, he tried to forget his problems in some girl, and she walked out. Then he would come to her on his knees, under the weight of false promises, and she would take him back. She always did. She was weak.
She sat with Arlene at night, listening to her husband cursed, vilified, dismissed as just another bad decision in the heat of a moment. She nodded her head, watching the tiny marshmallows in her hot chocolate slowly dissolve into white swirls. No, he isn't good for me. Yes, I know he won't change. No, I shouldn't go back. But she couldn't make any promises. She did love him.
Her sister wanted her to move to Illinois. L.A. was a dangerous place. Lots of monsters.
She didn't intend to stay very long. Springfield was a nice place though, one of those big cities that feels kind of like a smaller big city. It was pleasant, the kind of place you could live and be content and go at least a couple of hours every day without thinking about your husband cheating on you. Hank called just about every night. Arlene kept hanging up on him.
About eight days into Joyce's visit, Arlene decided she'd moped enough. "Look, you've gotta get out some," she told her. "Meet new people, make some friends. Maybe meet a guy..." Off Joyce's look, she added, "Okay, so you're still married to that bastard. But if he can play around, so can you, right? I mean, this is the eighties! Women are entitled to just as much sex as men! Especially a couple of babes like us."
Joyce raised an eyebrow. "Us?"
"Well..." Arlene blushed. "It's been a while. I'm kind of... ready for action."
Joyce giggled. Then, "I don't know," she said. "I wouldn't feel right about..."
"Don't worry about feeling right, just feel good," her sister interrupted. "Or at least come out with me. Because... damn." She gave Joyce a significant look.
"Alright, fine," she gave in. "But I'm just going for moral support. I'm not looking for anything serious."
"Trust me," Arlene said, smiling. "Where we're going, you won't find anything serious."
An understatement, Joyce thought when they got to the club that night. It was called Coconuts, and the front entrance looked like a shrine to the god of pink neon. Definitely not a place to be taken seriously. They were barely inside the door when a muscular guy in tight white pants walked by and patted her on the butt. She yanked Arlene closer to her side.
"Are you sure you want to be here?" Joyce yelled into her ear, barely making herself heard over "Funkytown," which was blaring through the club.
"Come on!" Arlene hollered back. She dragged Joyce to the bar to order drinks, her giant loop earrings swinging.
Two hours, several cocktails, and six Blondie songs later (four of them were "Call Me"), Arlene was ready to go home with the guy in the white pants.
"You'll be alright?" she asked Joyce again. "Because I don't really have to..."
"Go," Joyce said. "You deserve a night to yourself. I'll be fine. Really."
"You sure?" Arlene was already inching towards the door, white pants guy in tow.
Joyce nodded. "You just have fun. And be safe." She smiled at her sister as Arlene gave the thumbs up sign and vanished, pulling the man after her.
She saw no point in staying at Coconuts, since she wasn't interested in meeting any men, and the place was too loud to sit and have drink by herself. She paid her tab, gathered up her purse, and walked out into the cool air, hoping honestly that Arlene had a good time with... she couldn't remember his name.
She started to hail a cab, but decided on a whim to walk instead. It was a pleasant night. She still had a small buzz going, and she thought it would be nice to move around a bit, listen to the city-at-night sounds she'd been missing. Visiting with her sister was nice, but she felt like she'd been cooped up for days. She walked along the downtown sidewalk for a while, frowning when she realized that she had been cooped up for days. She hadn't left Arlene's once since she'd gotten there!
How pathetic. Just because Hank was a... cheating little... little flea on a rat's... Was she going to let this ruin her life? No way! She clenched her fists as she continued walking. What right did he have to make her stay inside for eight days straight, crying? None! It wasn't fair, like Arlene had said - he could violate their marriage contract whenever he wanted, but she let it bind her? And THEN she had to sit around feeling sorry for herself when HE was the one who'd done wrong? She was upset that it had taken this long to realize she could allow herself to be angry and not just hurt. And boy, was she angry! It was time to start standing up for herself. Time to be the strong one!
She rounded a corner so caught up in her thoughts that she bumped right into a black man coming from the other direction. They both looked surprised for a moment, and then Joyce took a step back and said to him, "I am the strong one, damn it!"
The man blinked at her.
She gave him a look, just daring him to disagree.
She had enough time to wonder why he was dressed so funny before he hefted his long wooden staff and cracked her over the head with it.
When she came to, she thought she had gone blind. She tried to reach a hand up to her eyes, but both her wrists were bound to the arm rests of the chair she was sitting in. She tried not to freak out. Okay... where was she? She couldn't tell because she was blind! No... no, don't freak out... blindfolded. Okay, just blindfolded. She shook her head once and felt the material over her eyes. Okay. Blindfold. Good. No wait, not good!
She could hear two male voices nearby. They sounded like they were arguing. She told herself to stay calm. They probably just wanted... her purse. But if that was all, why had they kidnapped her? Ransom? Oh, God. Her life was shitty.
"...will be angry!"
"He will not. I have done my portion of our duty."
"This is the wrong girl! How could you be so ignorant?"
"She is the one, Walialu."
"But you did not perform the sacred rite. You do not know she is the one!"
"She is the one. I followed the path of my vision, and she made herself known to me. I do not need a sacred rite to tell me what is clear!"
"Do not be foolish, Mugo! We must release her."
"We will wait for Abeid."
While they argued, Joyce tried quietly to free her hands. It was no use. She was blindfolded and bound to a chair by two guys who thought she was someone else. She wanted to say something to them, but she had no idea what to say. Her head hurt. Suddenly, she heard a door open behind her.
"What is the meaning of this?" Demanded a voice.
"They kidnapped me!" Joyce quickly responded.
There was a pause.
"You weren't talking to me, were you?" Joyce asked.
"Abeid, I have found the one."
"This is not the one, Mugo. You have not performed the rite."
"Aha! That is what I told him."
"It would only lead me to her. She is the one."
"How do you know?"
"I followed the path of my vision. I was told to go to the Neon Palace to find the strong one, and on my way, I met the girl. She made herself known to me, so I have brought her here."
"And how did she make herself known?"
"She greeted me in the traditional Hishanni way and then identified herself as the strong one. She was very... forceful."
"I bumped into you! It was an accident!" Joyce protested.
"The rite is long and tedious. Should we waste valuable time confirming what I already know to be true?"
"We should do the rite. We cannot afford to make a mistake."
"Walialu has spoken. What say you, Abeid?"
Joyce suddenly felt a hand over her belly. Then a hand was pressed against the side of her head.
"There is a presence in her mind. It will end her life."
Joyce jerked her head away. "Excuse me?"
"She has time yet, Abeid. Time enough."
"You are correct, Mugo. She is a strong one." The hand pressed against Joyce's belly again briefly. "Her daughter will be strong as well. We will make it so."
"I don't... daughter?" Joyce stammered.
"We will not perform the sacred rite. It would indeed consume too much of our time on this plane. Besides, Mugo has never yet brought the wrong girl to us. Let us complete the ritual."
"I will trust your judgment, Abeid. And yours, Mugo. You are my brothers. But I do not think this is wise."
"It is our duty, Walialu. We will do it until the end. But do not fear, brother, for the end will come soon."
"Abeid, I fear not that the end will come soon, but that this child will be the one who brings it upon us."
"Maybe so. But do you not wish sometimes for the end, Walialu? I find myself grown tired of this shadow-life."
"I, too, grow tired, Abeid. But if this is the wrong girl, she may bring worse things than the end."
"Perhaps she will not be chosen."
"If she is the wrong girl, she will undoubtedly be chosen."
"Let us perform the ritual. What takes place takes place. I am interested now to see what type of girl she will become."
Joyce heard a loud thump then, followed by another, and then another. The thumping went on, as if all three men were beating drums. Their rhythm began to speed up.
She barely heard one of the men say, "We only know she will be strong," before Joyce felt something start to swirl around her, a thick mist circling faster and faster around her body. Her hair began to whip around her face, and the rapid thumping noise combined with the rushing sound in her ears until everything was so loud she could hear nothing at all. Then she felt the mist rush into her stomach. She screamed.
When she opened her eyes this time, she was standing outside of Arlene's front door.
She looked around.
She screamed again.
A few seconds later, the door flew open. "Joyce! Joyce, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Arlene pulled her inside. "Are you alright? Why were you screaming?"
"I... how did..." Joyce indicated herself, then Arlene, then the front door, then herself again.
"Eh?" said Arlene.
A million things were rushing through Joyce's mind at once. What the hell just happened? was the main thing, but also How did I get back here? and Who were those men? Out of all the questions she wanted to ask, she finally settled on one. "Where's white pants guy?"
"Oh, total loser." Arlene shrugged dismissively.
"Oh." Joyce wandered slowly over to a chair and sat down.
Arlene closed the door and followed Joyce. "Are you... alright?" she asked her again. "That was you screaming, right?"
"Yeah, I... well, I just. Wanted to see if you were home. What time is it?"
"It's nearly two. And you could have just come inside. Where have you been?"
"I went for a walk. Oh my God, I don't even speak Swahili." She had just realized this.
Arlene stared at her.
"I think I'll go to bed now," Joyce said, standing up. "And I want to go home tomorrow."
Arlene just nodded, still looking at her strangely.
By the time Joyce did get back home to L.A., she had decided to give Hank an ultimatum. One more chance. That was ALL. And she was dead serious. The next time, the very next time he fooled around with some bimbo, she was gone for good. She refused to be treated like a disposable napkin! She somehow knew this time she could make him believe her. She felt... different.
Joyce didn't find out she was pregnant until about three weeks later. She called Arlene to tell her the news. After the initial squealing excitement, they got right down to business discussing names.
"I want to name her something that means strong," Joyce said.
"Her? You think it's a girl?"
"I feel like she's a girl. I don't really know why."
"So wait, you want to give your daughter a name that means strong? Strong like... buff?"
Joyce could hear the distaste in Arlene's voice.
"Yeah," she said. "Something like that."
*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-10-19 11:21 pm (UTC)Awe, rituals, and cheating, and...
Great story!
I miss Joyce =(
Adios
no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 03:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-19 11:37 pm (UTC)You know you do a lot of stories of women who at first can't leave a bad situation but then fight back in their own way. It's interesting.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 03:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 02:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 03:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 10:26 am (UTC)I do love your stories.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 03:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 03:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 10:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 03:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 05:26 pm (UTC)I loved the explanation of the name. And: Oh my God, I don't even speak Swahili.
Excellent random quote :)
Loved it, Jen!
no subject
Date: 2005-10-20 07:08 pm (UTC)Your brain just gave you that?
isn't that how it always works? (whose brain gave you Tracks?) o.O
I want your brain.
awww, i would be flattered if i weren't so terribly frightened by this.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 01:46 pm (UTC)Stories never seem to come from my brain. I always have to fight to pull them out of the ether.
awww, i would be flattered if i weren't so terribly frightened by this.
::sharpens brain-extracting fork::
no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 07:52 pm (UTC)i'm really glad you said "the ether" there and not some other body part.
::sharpens brain-extracting fork::
*looks closely* is that a shrimp fork? and... why am i locked in this box with a dotted line drawn on my forehead?
no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 08:16 pm (UTC)Hee. Are you reading
*looks closely* is that a shrimp fork? and... why am i locked in this box with a dotted line drawn on my forehead?
Ingesting other fanfic writers' brains is an age-old custom of my people. Also, you refused to hug me.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 05:03 pm (UTC)"There is a presence in her mind. It will end her life."
::HUGE GINORMOUS SNIFFLE::
"If she is the wrong girl, she will undoubtedly be chosen."
Ouch.
It was called Coconuts, and the front entrance looked like a shrine to the god of pink neon.
Hehehehehehe!
I really enjoyed that story, ‘twas excellent – and it was free of vampires! ;)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 08:01 pm (UTC)"There is a presence in her mind. It will end her life."
i threw that in because i figure they'd probably know somehow.
"If she is the wrong girl, she will undoubtedly be chosen."
heh, this was the closest i could come to having one of the shadowmen reference Murphy's Law. :)
It was called Coconuts, and the front entrance looked like a shrine to the god of pink neon.
this is an actual place near where i live. :D
this is my first vampfree fanfic!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-25 12:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-25 12:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-23 10:01 pm (UTC)That was awesome, I like this bit: "strong like... buff?" :) lmao.
I really like your writing and I'm in a fic-reading mood tonight so you might get a whole load of comments from me in the next hour or so...
no subject
Date: 2008-02-05 02:45 pm (UTC)i have no idea what possessed me to write this story, really. every time i go back and read it, i'm like... what was i even thinking about that made me write this? but i'm happy with the way it turned out (especially for being one of the first fics i ever wrote) and i'm very glad that you enjoyed it!
no subject
Date: 2008-02-04 06:20 pm (UTC)I loved several lines, but these were my favorites:
"Hank called just about every night. Arlene kept hanging up on him." Did I mention I love Arlene?
This made me laugh out loud: "What is the meaning of this?" Demanded a voice.
"They kidnapped me!" Joyce quickly responded.
There was a pause.
"You weren't talking to me, were you?" That was a classic bit of comedy.
Arlene coming up with the root to Buffy's name was inspired.
The LTM awards alerted me to this story, and I was delighted to finally read it. The story fits into canon beautifully. It was a very entertaining piece.
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Date: 2008-02-05 02:49 pm (UTC)an excellent question! i don't think i've ever read another fic that addressed that. which is probably why i wrote this one.
"You weren't talking to me, were you?"
heh! that part actually made me giggle while i was writing it. :D
i'm so glad you liked this story! i sort of always forget about it, so i was pretty thrilled when i saw i had won a couple of awards for it. thanks for the fb!
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Date: 2008-02-26 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-08 06:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-08 07:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-31 05:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-31 08:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 11:04 am (UTC)I really liked your characterization of Joyce and her relationship with Arlene and Hank. I love your explanation of the name "Buffy", she's really the strong one. :)