![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aubreymThe meme: When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many randomworks-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y. Snagged from shadowscast and tarotgal. Fun!
Current WIPs -
Epiphany in Blue - Seeing her like that the first time probably should not have shocked me as it did. You would think I would have expected to meet her. Maybe even felt her presence echo in my bones, whisper in my blood. Known it somehow. Maybe it was a sign of how very far I had fallen that none of those things happened. Of course I did know, once upon a time, that her home town was San Francisco. That she was born at St. Luke's hospital, and treated at the University of California in San Francisco. But it had been so many years and so much had changed. You might not believe that twenty-five years is a long time to one who has existed for eons, but as I said – things have changed. I no longer merely exist – I live. And my years no longer flow past in an unending stream. There are numbers attached now. Dates and times and the separation that living in a linear fashion entails. It is nothing like it was. (Original fic. Fantasy. Started for NaNoWriMo last November. Not finished, and still rattling around in my brain.)
Less Traveled By - The King stalked through the hall, boot heels clicking loudly against the flagstones. His robes flared behind him like black wings. He caught the scurrying movements of his subjects from the corner of his eye, but he did not slow his steps nor move to confront them. Stupid creatures, fearing what they could never hope to understand. Fearing him, fearing the electricity in the air, the tension. Worried about their little lives, their small pleasures, the status quo. He laughed and the harsh caw of it echoed off the walls, sending the watchers deeper into the shadows. As though hiding could keep him from finding them. As though it could halt their destruction. Nothing could do that. Not their fear, not his power. Their world trembled on the brink and the slightest breath would send them tumbling into the abyss. He would slow it by any means necessary, but it would only bring them a bit of time; a handful of years, minuscule in the lives of those who dwelled here. He was losing and they knew it and feared what he would wreak in the face of dissolution. (Original fic. Fantasy. Originally started as a NaNoWriMo piece. Not yet finished, not yet dead.)
Michael and Anthony - Anthony curled his toes, pushing them deeper into the sand, feeling tiny grains of sand digging under his toenails. His ass was getting damp, cold as the rest of him. But neither of the little discomforts truly penetrated the beery haze he floated in. What the hell now; that was the question, wasn't it? The million dollar question. There was Sheri, with her endless questions and her need to know and shit, what if he'd given it to her? He raised a hand to his forehead, rubbed a spot between his eyebrows. His head was beginning to hurt. He took another gulp of beer, but it didn't help and now the bottle was empty. He pitched it out into the ocean and it disappeared into the waves with a satisfying plop. (This is the novel that has consumed my brain. Original fic. One day it will be finished, I swear. Also - needs a title.)
Leah and Kiren - The sky stretched overhead, vast and flawlessly blue. The sun just crested the horizon, shining directly in her eyes so she had to squint to see at all. Still, her surroundings were nothing more than dark shadows looming at her sides. She moved forward, but slowly, the sand seeming to catch at her feet with every step. Not your place, the wind whispered, rustling dryly through dead wildflowers. She shook her head, resisting, and continued moving. She had to find him. She knew he was here somewhere. She raised a hand to block the sun but her eyes were still dazzled by the light. She could not see clear. Odd shapes surrounded her. Bald rock heads topped sandstone cliffs. Arms of saguaro and Joshua Trees reached for each other, frozen in the midst of their dance. (Original fic. Romance. Barely alive in the brain. In need of title.)
Turn of the Wheel - Not that anyone, not even Elrond, would expect it, but Elladan was often the mastermind behind the twins' mischief and always had been. He hid his schemes behind a calm front and an innocent mien. Apart from Elrohir, Celebrian was the only one who had learned to suspect when Elladan looked most complacent and to truly grow concerned when his eyes glinted in that particular way. If the mastermind was Elladan's, their saving grace was Elrohir's silver tongue. He had talked them out of many a looming punishment. Together they were virtually unstoppable. And if betimes Elrohir did not find out 'Dan's plots until they had already been set in motion... well, it was as much fun to be surprised as it was to see the expressions on those targeted by the fallout. This also lent Elrohir's protestations a certain air of innocence. Being that this was the way things were, Elrohir did not press his brother, merely led the way to the dining halls. (LotR fanfic. Slash. Twincest. Multiple pairings. Haven't written anything on this lately, but not forgotten.)
King's Courtesan - Legolas shifted and his foot brushed against his pack. The crackle of parchment reminded him of the letter, tucked away. There was a flash of grey eyes in his thoughts and Elrohir's voice, turning him away but gently. Kindly. Legolas pushed the images down, hoping to lock them away. H could not think of such things now. Could not let himself be distracted from the Quest for even a moment, because when he was... a crack of sound, a flash of flame... and Gandalf was tugged over the ledge once again. Echo of Frodo's voice in his head. Legolas pushed himself to his feet, clinging to grief. It was easier, and would harm none. “You would speak of happiness now, in the wake of such great loss that the world is darkened still,” he demanded. (LotR fanfic. Multiple pairings. Slash. Haven't written anything new here in a while, but it's one of my favorite fanfics.)
Cake or Death (Part 2) - Beth rubbed her eyes and yawned. She refreshed her email for the third time in as many minutes, but it refused to yield a new message. She yawned again, jaw cracking and ears popping. (Eddie Izzard fanfic. Yes, paired with an OFC. Not much of a teaser here - but this is all I've got typed up. I just saw him perform this week, so the fic has been reenergized.)
Walking the Plank - Frowning slightly, Jack turned. “Well well, look what the storm blew in,” he said, disguising surprise with a mocking bow. “William Turner. It has been a while, though not as long as might be expected. Have you lost your wife again?”
Will laughed, the sound short and bitter. “You might say that,” he agreed, sitting next to Jack and taking a gulp of rum right from the bottle, without waiting for an invitation. The alcohol made him cough and his eyes watered. (PotC fanfic. Started after the first movie. Still haven't seen the third. Slash, Jack/Will.)
Hopefully only stalled WIPs (I do plan on getting back to them eventually) -
Cat and Michael - Somehow, without all of their stuff, the room seemed even smaller. Just four walls, a tiny closet, a kitchen just big enough for a stove and fridge and a bathroom so cramped that only one person could fit in there at a time. It was, really, just a studio after all. No escape, no magic. Just a studio like so many others in the city. And the paint was peeling. (Original fic. Needs a title. Planned on being part of a trilogy of stories with intersecting main characters.)
Point of No Return - Three months it had been, since she had fled from the room beneath the Opera House with Raoul at her side, urging her to run farther, faster, and do not look back, no matter what doubts may linger. No matter the sound of Erik's voice, calling after her. She ran, kept running for those months until finally they settled, lightly, down in a small town far from Paris. (Phantom fanfic. Eventually Christine/Erik. This is all I've actually written.)
Myth - I want to weave a tale for myself and Chris.. this woman I haven't even met yet. A myth for us to play out together. Goddess and priestess, lover and beloved, old souls, soul mates separated by death only to be reborn together to replay our story through time. Maybe I'm too much of a romantic. Maybe I'm destined to be disappointed. But the dreams and fantasies play themselves out in my heart nonetheless. (Original fic. Again, all I've actually written. A fictionalized account of a woman I met and dated, briefly.)
Given to Fly - It had rained all day and the center of campus was enveloped in fog. Xiola loved the way it hid half of the library and rolled off the pond. Everything seemed muffled and the quietness was only emphasized by the lack of people out and about this early. Even the ducks were still asleep. She walked up the hill towards the library door, humming under her breath. (Original fic. Will need a new title. I still like the characters and some of the plot, but some will have to be ditched.)
Protector - “Come now, ‘Lo. How could you resist the King’s chosen?” There had been the sound of giggles, and soft footfalls moving away, but Legolas remained where he stood for a long moment, the smile fast disappearing. The King’s chosen… The words were innocent enough on their own. Thranduil had chosen Berond to Captain his guard. And yet, there was something in his tone that spoke of a different meaning altogether. Legolas closed the book and gazed into the distance. Though he did not like to do it, he would bring this to his father’s attention. The Captain of the Guard should not be spreading such rumors, even in such a veiled manner. (LotR fanfiction - started with Piper. I'm still interested in the elvish politics we'd worked out.)
Extremely old WIPs (probably abandoned, but have some redeeming qualities) -
Rachel - As Rachel slogged up the stairs to her apartment, a light went on in the hall above her and spilled down the stairs. After a moment there was the sound of bare feet on hardwood and Michael, her upstairs neighbor looked over the railing and grinned at her. “Hey Rachel. You’re home late.” He had a smudge of indigo paint across one cheek and he looked wide awake, as though it were afternoon rather than the middle of the night. (Original fic. This has sort-of morphed to become Epiphany in Blue. Similar ideas, but not the same. Insanity? Reality? Who decides?)
Katie - “It began with a sound. A single silver tone, not yet a note, and it expanded, growing broader and broader until the surrounding angels vibrated with it. And the tone became a note, which in turn expanded out and out until it burst forth in a Word and the Word rang through the heavens. The angels took up the Word and made it a song. The song burned gold and the spark of a child was brought into being. The spark twinkled and grew into the shape of a small girl. The singing gradually faded until there was only a low hum left hanging in the air and then one of the angels moved forward.” (Original fic. Merged a bit with Rachel and also sorta morphed into Epiphany. I do like this paragraph though.)
Cecily and Celeste - There was a new drawing above the fireplace and she studied it as Dan went into the kitchen for a glass of wine. It was done in pencil. There was a woman asleep on a bed. Behind her a demon rose, wings spread, claws ready, fangs bared. Between the woman and the demon stood a man, an angel, arms outstretched, wings folded back. He held the demon away from the woman, protecting. (Original fic. I think I merged too much in this story, too many plots woven haphazardly together. But I like some of the characters.)
Chloe - She took the joint very gently between her lips, imagining his around it before. She drew smoke into her lungs gently and held it, passing the joint back. The smoke tickled her throat and opened her brain. She exhaled, feeling thoughts flow out with the smoke. Time slowed to a crawl. All Chloe could see was Trent, but somehow he was across the room before she noticed he had gotten up. The sun must have set-where had the day gone-because the only light in the warehouse loft was provided by hundreds of candles. White candles, black candles and candles that were such a deep red they seemed like pillars of blood. Chloe sighed, unable to look away from the flames which flickered and danced. If she wasn’t so liquid she’d dance too. She felt like a flame. A white-hot coal. She wondered if she glowed. (One of my earliest fics. Original fic, though I envisioned one of the characters as Trent Reznor. Yeah, I was young. I like the world I was creating here. A dystopian future. Scifi-ish.)
Coming Home - Xiola closed her eyes and colors swam under her lids. Red, and green, and blue, and purple. Jade’s colors. Her mind turned, twisting in on itself. Her mouth was full of ashes. Suddenly she felt a light touch on her cheek. She opened her eyes to see Jade lying next to her on her side. Jade ran her fingers gently across Xiola’s cheek, and down her neck to brush her breasts. Xiola sighed softly. Her muscles tensed for a moment, then relaxed. (Original fic. I like the characters, but the writing makes me cringe. Maybe one day I'll be able to let them thell their stories.)
Double - He waits in the comparative silence of the small white room behind the stage. The only furnishings are a single wooden chair pushed into one corner of the room and a metallic table. Ghost sits in the chair, away from the table, staring at the wall opposite him. He takes a single white pill from a container in his pocket and dry-swallows it. A smile spreads across his face. He hears a dim roar from the waiting audience. From this distance it resembles the rush of the ocean. Any minute now that cute redhead will come back to tell him it is time to go on. (Original fic, though I imagined one of the characters as Eddie Vedder. Again, a bit embarrassed about the writing - it is very old, after all. But I still like the plot. )
Dream - “I don’t know what horrible things Damian has told you about me, but I can assure you that none of them are true. He is jealous of my powers, you see. He has the same powers, but I have learned to use them and he has not. You have the power too, Elyssa. That’s why I have brought you here to me. I can teach you to use them and together we could not only rule the dream-world, but the real world too. I am a creature of the Dreaming, but you...you are real. Together we could be unstoppable.” (Original fic. Embarrassing writing, slightly interesting plot. Oddly enough, my younger brother used to take pieces to class and his teacher would read it aloud. Weird.)
Ghost - “On a cool cloudy night, much like tonight, a child came into the world at exactly midnight as the light of the full moon peered through the clouds and down on us. For generations children have been born thus, one every other generation; each with the power to see ghosts and glimpses of the past and the future. As I am, my child, so are you. We are special. A bit of the world’s last magic is glimpsed through our eyes before it is lost forever. We must keep it alive...” (Original fic. This is actually all I ever wrote. Am still curious about the characters.)
shadowscast and tarotgal. Fun! Current WIPs -
Epiphany in Blue - Seeing her like that the first time probably should not have shocked me as it did. You would think I would have expected to meet her. Maybe even felt her presence echo in my bones, whisper in my blood. Known it somehow. Maybe it was a sign of how very far I had fallen that none of those things happened. Of course I did know, once upon a time, that her home town was San Francisco. That she was born at St. Luke's hospital, and treated at the University of California in San Francisco. But it had been so many years and so much had changed. You might not believe that twenty-five years is a long time to one who has existed for eons, but as I said – things have changed. I no longer merely exist – I live. And my years no longer flow past in an unending stream. There are numbers attached now. Dates and times and the separation that living in a linear fashion entails. It is nothing like it was. (Original fic. Fantasy. Started for NaNoWriMo last November. Not finished, and still rattling around in my brain.)
Less Traveled By - The King stalked through the hall, boot heels clicking loudly against the flagstones. His robes flared behind him like black wings. He caught the scurrying movements of his subjects from the corner of his eye, but he did not slow his steps nor move to confront them. Stupid creatures, fearing what they could never hope to understand. Fearing him, fearing the electricity in the air, the tension. Worried about their little lives, their small pleasures, the status quo. He laughed and the harsh caw of it echoed off the walls, sending the watchers deeper into the shadows. As though hiding could keep him from finding them. As though it could halt their destruction. Nothing could do that. Not their fear, not his power. Their world trembled on the brink and the slightest breath would send them tumbling into the abyss. He would slow it by any means necessary, but it would only bring them a bit of time; a handful of years, minuscule in the lives of those who dwelled here. He was losing and they knew it and feared what he would wreak in the face of dissolution. (Original fic. Fantasy. Originally started as a NaNoWriMo piece. Not yet finished, not yet dead.)
Michael and Anthony - Anthony curled his toes, pushing them deeper into the sand, feeling tiny grains of sand digging under his toenails. His ass was getting damp, cold as the rest of him. But neither of the little discomforts truly penetrated the beery haze he floated in. What the hell now; that was the question, wasn't it? The million dollar question. There was Sheri, with her endless questions and her need to know and shit, what if he'd given it to her? He raised a hand to his forehead, rubbed a spot between his eyebrows. His head was beginning to hurt. He took another gulp of beer, but it didn't help and now the bottle was empty. He pitched it out into the ocean and it disappeared into the waves with a satisfying plop. (This is the novel that has consumed my brain. Original fic. One day it will be finished, I swear. Also - needs a title.)
Leah and Kiren - The sky stretched overhead, vast and flawlessly blue. The sun just crested the horizon, shining directly in her eyes so she had to squint to see at all. Still, her surroundings were nothing more than dark shadows looming at her sides. She moved forward, but slowly, the sand seeming to catch at her feet with every step. Not your place, the wind whispered, rustling dryly through dead wildflowers. She shook her head, resisting, and continued moving. She had to find him. She knew he was here somewhere. She raised a hand to block the sun but her eyes were still dazzled by the light. She could not see clear. Odd shapes surrounded her. Bald rock heads topped sandstone cliffs. Arms of saguaro and Joshua Trees reached for each other, frozen in the midst of their dance. (Original fic. Romance. Barely alive in the brain. In need of title.)
Turn of the Wheel - Not that anyone, not even Elrond, would expect it, but Elladan was often the mastermind behind the twins' mischief and always had been. He hid his schemes behind a calm front and an innocent mien. Apart from Elrohir, Celebrian was the only one who had learned to suspect when Elladan looked most complacent and to truly grow concerned when his eyes glinted in that particular way. If the mastermind was Elladan's, their saving grace was Elrohir's silver tongue. He had talked them out of many a looming punishment. Together they were virtually unstoppable. And if betimes Elrohir did not find out 'Dan's plots until they had already been set in motion... well, it was as much fun to be surprised as it was to see the expressions on those targeted by the fallout. This also lent Elrohir's protestations a certain air of innocence. Being that this was the way things were, Elrohir did not press his brother, merely led the way to the dining halls. (LotR fanfic. Slash. Twincest. Multiple pairings. Haven't written anything on this lately, but not forgotten.)
King's Courtesan - Legolas shifted and his foot brushed against his pack. The crackle of parchment reminded him of the letter, tucked away. There was a flash of grey eyes in his thoughts and Elrohir's voice, turning him away but gently. Kindly. Legolas pushed the images down, hoping to lock them away. H could not think of such things now. Could not let himself be distracted from the Quest for even a moment, because when he was... a crack of sound, a flash of flame... and Gandalf was tugged over the ledge once again. Echo of Frodo's voice in his head. Legolas pushed himself to his feet, clinging to grief. It was easier, and would harm none. “You would speak of happiness now, in the wake of such great loss that the world is darkened still,” he demanded. (LotR fanfic. Multiple pairings. Slash. Haven't written anything new here in a while, but it's one of my favorite fanfics.)
Cake or Death (Part 2) - Beth rubbed her eyes and yawned. She refreshed her email for the third time in as many minutes, but it refused to yield a new message. She yawned again, jaw cracking and ears popping. (Eddie Izzard fanfic. Yes, paired with an OFC. Not much of a teaser here - but this is all I've got typed up. I just saw him perform this week, so the fic has been reenergized.)
Walking the Plank - Frowning slightly, Jack turned. “Well well, look what the storm blew in,” he said, disguising surprise with a mocking bow. “William Turner. It has been a while, though not as long as might be expected. Have you lost your wife again?”
Will laughed, the sound short and bitter. “You might say that,” he agreed, sitting next to Jack and taking a gulp of rum right from the bottle, without waiting for an invitation. The alcohol made him cough and his eyes watered. (PotC fanfic. Started after the first movie. Still haven't seen the third. Slash, Jack/Will.)
Hopefully only stalled WIPs (I do plan on getting back to them eventually) -
Cat and Michael - Somehow, without all of their stuff, the room seemed even smaller. Just four walls, a tiny closet, a kitchen just big enough for a stove and fridge and a bathroom so cramped that only one person could fit in there at a time. It was, really, just a studio after all. No escape, no magic. Just a studio like so many others in the city. And the paint was peeling. (Original fic. Needs a title. Planned on being part of a trilogy of stories with intersecting main characters.)
Point of No Return - Three months it had been, since she had fled from the room beneath the Opera House with Raoul at her side, urging her to run farther, faster, and do not look back, no matter what doubts may linger. No matter the sound of Erik's voice, calling after her. She ran, kept running for those months until finally they settled, lightly, down in a small town far from Paris. (Phantom fanfic. Eventually Christine/Erik. This is all I've actually written.)
Myth - I want to weave a tale for myself and Chris.. this woman I haven't even met yet. A myth for us to play out together. Goddess and priestess, lover and beloved, old souls, soul mates separated by death only to be reborn together to replay our story through time. Maybe I'm too much of a romantic. Maybe I'm destined to be disappointed. But the dreams and fantasies play themselves out in my heart nonetheless. (Original fic. Again, all I've actually written. A fictionalized account of a woman I met and dated, briefly.)
Given to Fly - It had rained all day and the center of campus was enveloped in fog. Xiola loved the way it hid half of the library and rolled off the pond. Everything seemed muffled and the quietness was only emphasized by the lack of people out and about this early. Even the ducks were still asleep. She walked up the hill towards the library door, humming under her breath. (Original fic. Will need a new title. I still like the characters and some of the plot, but some will have to be ditched.)
Protector - “Come now, ‘Lo. How could you resist the King’s chosen?” There had been the sound of giggles, and soft footfalls moving away, but Legolas remained where he stood for a long moment, the smile fast disappearing. The King’s chosen… The words were innocent enough on their own. Thranduil had chosen Berond to Captain his guard. And yet, there was something in his tone that spoke of a different meaning altogether. Legolas closed the book and gazed into the distance. Though he did not like to do it, he would bring this to his father’s attention. The Captain of the Guard should not be spreading such rumors, even in such a veiled manner. (LotR fanfiction - started with Piper. I'm still interested in the elvish politics we'd worked out.)
Extremely old WIPs (probably abandoned, but have some redeeming qualities) -
Rachel - As Rachel slogged up the stairs to her apartment, a light went on in the hall above her and spilled down the stairs. After a moment there was the sound of bare feet on hardwood and Michael, her upstairs neighbor looked over the railing and grinned at her. “Hey Rachel. You’re home late.” He had a smudge of indigo paint across one cheek and he looked wide awake, as though it were afternoon rather than the middle of the night. (Original fic. This has sort-of morphed to become Epiphany in Blue. Similar ideas, but not the same. Insanity? Reality? Who decides?)
Katie - “It began with a sound. A single silver tone, not yet a note, and it expanded, growing broader and broader until the surrounding angels vibrated with it. And the tone became a note, which in turn expanded out and out until it burst forth in a Word and the Word rang through the heavens. The angels took up the Word and made it a song. The song burned gold and the spark of a child was brought into being. The spark twinkled and grew into the shape of a small girl. The singing gradually faded until there was only a low hum left hanging in the air and then one of the angels moved forward.” (Original fic. Merged a bit with Rachel and also sorta morphed into Epiphany. I do like this paragraph though.)
Cecily and Celeste - There was a new drawing above the fireplace and she studied it as Dan went into the kitchen for a glass of wine. It was done in pencil. There was a woman asleep on a bed. Behind her a demon rose, wings spread, claws ready, fangs bared. Between the woman and the demon stood a man, an angel, arms outstretched, wings folded back. He held the demon away from the woman, protecting. (Original fic. I think I merged too much in this story, too many plots woven haphazardly together. But I like some of the characters.)
Chloe - She took the joint very gently between her lips, imagining his around it before. She drew smoke into her lungs gently and held it, passing the joint back. The smoke tickled her throat and opened her brain. She exhaled, feeling thoughts flow out with the smoke. Time slowed to a crawl. All Chloe could see was Trent, but somehow he was across the room before she noticed he had gotten up. The sun must have set-where had the day gone-because the only light in the warehouse loft was provided by hundreds of candles. White candles, black candles and candles that were such a deep red they seemed like pillars of blood. Chloe sighed, unable to look away from the flames which flickered and danced. If she wasn’t so liquid she’d dance too. She felt like a flame. A white-hot coal. She wondered if she glowed. (One of my earliest fics. Original fic, though I envisioned one of the characters as Trent Reznor. Yeah, I was young. I like the world I was creating here. A dystopian future. Scifi-ish.)
Coming Home - Xiola closed her eyes and colors swam under her lids. Red, and green, and blue, and purple. Jade’s colors. Her mind turned, twisting in on itself. Her mouth was full of ashes. Suddenly she felt a light touch on her cheek. She opened her eyes to see Jade lying next to her on her side. Jade ran her fingers gently across Xiola’s cheek, and down her neck to brush her breasts. Xiola sighed softly. Her muscles tensed for a moment, then relaxed. (Original fic. I like the characters, but the writing makes me cringe. Maybe one day I'll be able to let them thell their stories.)
Double - He waits in the comparative silence of the small white room behind the stage. The only furnishings are a single wooden chair pushed into one corner of the room and a metallic table. Ghost sits in the chair, away from the table, staring at the wall opposite him. He takes a single white pill from a container in his pocket and dry-swallows it. A smile spreads across his face. He hears a dim roar from the waiting audience. From this distance it resembles the rush of the ocean. Any minute now that cute redhead will come back to tell him it is time to go on. (Original fic, though I imagined one of the characters as Eddie Vedder. Again, a bit embarrassed about the writing - it is very old, after all. But I still like the plot. )
Dream - “I don’t know what horrible things Damian has told you about me, but I can assure you that none of them are true. He is jealous of my powers, you see. He has the same powers, but I have learned to use them and he has not. You have the power too, Elyssa. That’s why I have brought you here to me. I can teach you to use them and together we could not only rule the dream-world, but the real world too. I am a creature of the Dreaming, but you...you are real. Together we could be unstoppable.” (Original fic. Embarrassing writing, slightly interesting plot. Oddly enough, my younger brother used to take pieces to class and his teacher would read it aloud. Weird.)
Ghost - “On a cool cloudy night, much like tonight, a child came into the world at exactly midnight as the light of the full moon peered through the clouds and down on us. For generations children have been born thus, one every other generation; each with the power to see ghosts and glimpses of the past and the future. As I am, my child, so are you. We are special. A bit of the world’s last magic is glimpsed through our eyes before it is lost forever. We must keep it alive...” (Original fic. This is actually all I ever wrote. Am still curious about the characters.)
