Inie, Minnie, Mini, Moe
Nov. 14th, 2007 10:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
animeartistjoWarning for the rl people: It shall end in slash happiness.
Beginning #1:
Nikolas gasped and woke up. Gasping for air, his heartbeats like thunder in his chest, Niko stared at his ceiling. The dream was so VIVID, no wonder he was terrified. Forcing himself to calm down, Niko scanned his room. The moonlight flooding in from the uncovered window revealed nothing new, and as his panic subsided to a more subtle unease, Niko revisited the land of Nod.Premise #2: A singer's pet raven becomes human through the power of something or other.
----
"Niko!"
Niko looked up from the ground, quashing down his worry. Samantha, his roommate and childhood friend, had not returned by morning and while Samantha occasionally spent the night elsewhere, she always called to let him know. He forced a small smile on his face, which grew a bit more genuine when he saw who was calling his attention. "Roshni, hi!" His smile faded when he took in the Indian girl's serious expression. "Is something wrong?"
"It's Sam, Niko."
Niko's sense of foreboding from last night returned full force. "Where is she? What happened? Is she okay?"
Roshni took his arm and started striding towards one of the student parking lots, "She was in an accident last night and she's at the Wilkson Memorial Hospital right now. I'll drop you off, but I have a midterm I can't miss, so I can't stay." Roshni looked at the slender boy following in her wake. Niko was a quiet kid, who was always stuck to Sam like a burr when she saw them together. His eyes were glazed behind his thick glasses. "Niko, are you all right?"
The dazed "Yeah, I'm fine Roshni" didn't reassure her one bit, but she nodded and concentrated on getting Sam's little brother in all but blood to Sam's side.
---
"Niko, are you sure you'll be all right?"
Niko glanced at the dark-skinned girl, worry in every line of her body. "Yes, I just need to see Sam. Thanks for the ride and good luck on your test." He stepped out of the car and adjusted his tattered messenger bag.
"If you're sure. Because I can stay--"
"No! No, no. I'll be fine, Roshni! Thanks, okay? Thanks for telling me and getting me here."
With one last look at the lost looking boy, Roshni nodded, "Call me if you need a ride back--I don't have anymore classes after four today."
"Sure. And thanks again." Niko stood outside the hospital for a little, watching Roshni's car recede into the distance. Then, squaring his shoulders, he entered the hospital.
---
Niko clutched the door frame with one hand, his other clenched white-knuckled, around the strap of his bag.
Samantha was not awake and so pale, Niko reflexively checked the heart monitor. She was breathing though a tube and an I.V. ran out of one hand. The other arm was in a cast and sling. There was a bandage on her forehead, her left shoulder, and the dark bruising around her delicate neck made Niko force down the urge to gag. Sam wasn't supposed to be so still. She was supposed to...
Beginning #2:
My master is a handsome creature. As I watch him fill my water dish, I felt terribly drab with my plain, black plumage. Why would my master, with his hair of gleaming gold keep me? He has no lack of company, if the numerous females of his species he brings home every so often is anything to go by. I’m no songbird either, and my master is a famous singer. From my view of the human city out his balcony, I could see large posters of him playing some sort of shiny instrument, strung with strings.
Premise #3: Exorcist, part time writer, arrives to town to help exorcise ghost. The owner of the b&b who hired him is hostile (but of course, it's UST), but events and the ghost contrive to resolve the UST.
Beginning #3:
As the taxi sped away, Clarence finished piling his luggage on the ground and took a minute to admire the old Victorian mansion. Having seen only the narrow, crammed-like-sardines-in-a-can rows of Victorian houses in San Francisco, this spacious home and it artfully arranged garden was awe-inspiring. The entrance to the Victorian home was tucked behind a wide, brick porch and elegant, stately pillars framed long, narrow window with lacy curtains. Clarence checked the print out in his hands. This was it.
As a part-time exorcist, Clarence made most of his living as a free-lance technical writer. It was the first job he had found after graduating with a degree in English, and since it allowed him more freedom to pursue his other livelihood, he’d never bothered to find something else. He lived in Janicewood*, one of the several small towns about a twenty-minute drive from San Francisco and ten minutes from a moderately well known liberal arts college. Most of his assignments, both natural and supernatural, came from S.F., so not much travel was involved. He was looking forward to this assignment, passed on to him by a friend who couldn’t take due to a family emergency.
Stacking his duffel on top of his rolling suitcase and slinging the straps of his laptop case and backback over one shoulder, Clarence made his way into the shadey Heart of the Willows Inn.
---O---
Clarence had blink rapidly for a few seconds as his eyes adjusted from the sun to the softer in door lighting of the hall he found himself in. Off to his left was a closed door, but a bronze plaque mounted on it at eye level read “Lounge” in old-fashioned, curliquing letters. The door to his right was open, and as his vision cleared, Clarence realized that the prickly feeling on his arms didn’t come from the temperature change when he walked in, but from the steady gaze of the inscrutinable man sitting behind a heavy mohagony desktop.
Clarence smiled nervously. He wasn’t good with being social—his business really didn’t call for him to do much than greet his contracter and get pointed to the problem. Most of this was done by e-mail or phone, where Clarence could be cool, calm, and business-like without having to stare some stranger in the eyes. This silent man was foreboding, with his sharp green stare and sun-bleached brown hair. He possessed poise that made Clarence feel a jolt of envy and the engraved pen-stand on his desk declared him Mr. David H. Wells. His contracter.
Clarence approached the desk, feeling awkward with his luggage and introduced himself, “Hi, Mister Wells. I’m Clarence Merryweather. Jennifer sent me in her place since she had to fly out of the country on a family emergency.”
He would have extended his un-burdened hand for a shake, but David Wells did not seem like the man who would rise from his seat on anyone’s account.
“Yes, I had received notice.” Flipping open a leather portfolio, David continued, “You will be staying as my guest until the issue is taken care of.”
Mucho gracias!
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no subject
Date: 2007-11-15 07:32 am (UTC)Hmm...*thinks hard* I know! *turns on lightbulb* DO ALL THREE OF THEM! >_< *gets smacked*
*rubs head* Umm...I like the second one! Even though it is in first person P.O.V...*pouts* Three isn't bad either. And one is great too. Okay. I'll stop before you do something to hurt me.
Two. Yes, two. *nods to herself*
*gets kicked for her troubles* TT_TT
no subject
Date: 2007-11-15 07:34 am (UTC)Okay, so that's one vote.
I also wonder at the promptness of your answer. XD
no subject
Date: 2007-11-15 07:52 am (UTC)Another vote for #2
Date: 2007-11-19 06:45 am (UTC)Noticed that you friended me. Did we ever run across each other, or did you just find me by accident? *is curious*
Re: Another vote for #2
Date: 2007-11-19 07:54 am (UTC)Thanks for the op! Guess you agree with my sister. XD
Re: Another vote for #2
Date: 2007-11-19 08:56 am (UTC)So, which of my fanfic did you read? *shamelessly pries* ;-)