catko

This was fun. We used a random number generator, then went to this page (warning: NSFW), and there was our prompt. Mine had to do with guilt, so blue_sunflowers aptly suggested Angel.

One Morning at Angel Investigations
Fandom: Angel
Rating: PG
Notes: Mention of killing
Word count: 507
Link to your randomizer screenshot: http://i.imgur.com/ycufNqh.png
Prompt: The prompt is in bold.

Cordelia pressed a stamp on the envelope and tossed it into the basket marked “Out” with a self-satisfied nod. One task for the day, and it was already completed. She contemplated the envelope, so crisp, so hopeful, with its neatly (well, neatly enough) typed address, and had a somewhat-uncharacteristic, philosophical thought that outgoing bills were truly a triumph of optimism over experience. And who better than she to represent that particular quality?

Perking up again at the thought of her own brash confidence, she reached for her mocha soy latte as Wesley walked into the office—slouched, actually, his customary primness quite worn around the edges. Cordelia fixed him with a look as she took a sip.

“Late night?” she asked pertly. “Something fabulous, I hope?”

Wesley dropped his backpack on the floor and slid into a chair. “If by ‘fabulous’ you mean ‘known in fables or folk tales’ then yes, or rather no, it was meant to be as such, but the rumored cadejo turned out to be a chimera, and that in the figurative sense, so it was all for naught.” He rubbed his hands over his face and closed his eyes. “Nothing but human yobboes out on a rampage. So pedestrian.”

Cordelia gazed blankly for a moment, then roused herself. Standing, she walked past Wesley’s chair, patting his shoulder as she passed. “Still hunting rogue demons, huh? How many times do I have to tell you. Paying clients, Wesley, paying clients.” She reached back for the envelope in the Out box and grabbed her purse. “What you need is coffee, and I could use a refill. You rest here and I’ll be back in a jiff.”

Wesley nodded apathetically then squinted past the darkened hallway. “Where’s the boss?”

Cordelia paused. “Finished a job last night…uh, had to kill a few, so, brooding, as always.”

Wesley huffed out a laugh. “Feeling guilty about the same shit as yesterday?”

Cordelia blinked at his bitter tone. “Mr. Wyndham-Pryce!” she said in a tone of mock-outrage, and a snooty English accent. “Such language! What would your forebears think of such behavior?!” By this point, her accent had slid into bad Cockney. Wesley winced and cracked an eye at her, but he was smiling beneath the hand covering his face.

She leveled a glance at him. “Well now you see why, instead of finding glory and riches as an actress, I’m stuck here as a receptionist for the least-successful paranormal detective agency ever. And say what you will about the Boss’s glum ways. At least when he feels guilty, it’s over stuff that brings in money.” She waved the envelope airly. “Well, hopefully brings in money.” As she headed for the door, she called back over her shoulder, “And you better rest up, because tonight we’re gonna have some well-deserved fun. I just heard of a new place. Karaoke!” With a whoop, she broke into a trot down the stairs.

Wesley pressed his hands over his face again and groaned. The three of them, singing? Now that would really give them something to feel guilty about.

For a challenge at universe_the: to do something on the theme of "hero." I'm always attracted to the idea of regular people doing extraordinary things. And I wanted to try to learn something new, so, inspired by this gifset by tonystarks, I tried a fade-in gif thing with text that...well, see for yourself.

ETA: Wow, now that I look at that one done by tonystarks, I realize I should have aligned the names so the hidden thing is easier to read. Next time!




( What's that spell? )
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Prompt: Rewriting History--- Write a fic with whedon characters set in a time period other than their own.

Angelus raised his face to the moon and delicately sniffed the air. "Ah," he muttered, "I love the smell of gunpowder in the evening." In actuality, they were miles and weeks from the battlefield. But his centuries of basking in the midst of warfare had tuned those senses keenly. The metal tang of spilled blood, the scorch of burned flesh, the sweet scent of cries of pain….

An insistent chiming shook him out of his reverie, and, swinging his coat and lowering his head, he strode across the cobblestones to the steps of the theater, where a footman was ringing a bell. A half-head taller than most of the well-dressed throng headed for the entrance, he glanced momentarily at the marquee. "Our American Cousin,"  he murmured. "Sure and that's how we think of you, Mr. Lincoln." Slightly baring his teeth in anticipation, he moved with the crowd into Ford's Theater.

Saw this in several places. Since this is my first foray, I thought something short and structured would be good to start. Kinda weak, but I swore not to edit.
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it’s over. No lingering!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.

Fandoms = BSG, Dexter, Reaper, Angel, Buffy
Disclaimer = Don’t own anything.
Rating = PG