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Feb. 10th, 2009 05:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cjmarloweI'll totally write a ficlet or something in exchange, if that's something you're into. Just name your price. :)
Got it, thanks! Though if anyone wants to request a ficlet anyway, I'm completely blocked on everything I'm working on right now and would probably welcome the change of pace. XD Mostly writing spn / cw rpf / leverage these days.
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Date: 2009-02-10 11:19 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-02-10 11:31 pm (UTC)Oh, memories. I haven't listened to this in ages!
Huh. When I put the CD in, it's coming up as .cda files. WTF is that all about? I shall try to figure it out...
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Date: 2009-02-10 11:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 12:12 am (UTC)I'm just ripping the files and then I'll upload. :)
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Date: 2009-02-11 12:20 am (UTC)I also have the original Showcase run taped on VHS, with all those awesome Pride Week commercials. XD
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Date: 2009-02-11 12:40 am (UTC)Here's the soundtrack:
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=TIFYH2OJ
Enjoy!
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Date: 2009-02-11 12:52 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-02-11 03:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 01:13 am (UTC)As for the ficlet requests, I think I would just wind up requesting lots of variations on Wednesday/Peter, so I shall refrain.
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Date: 2009-02-11 01:31 am (UTC)Wednesday's family had always encouraged great trials to prove one's worthiness to claim a mate. She'd been hearing the stories since she was small, and repeating them from the time she learned to talk. Most of these stories ended in marriage, or at least a temporary alliance; some of them ended in bloodshed, tragedy, and in one memorable case, the burning of an entire city quarter. Wednesday liked those ones best.
Now that she was sitting in front of her hut, though, waiting for Peter to return, the stories without death and dismemberment suddenly seemed more appealing.
"If you want to kiss me, you have to bring me the head of a dinosaur first," she had said, which seemed reasonable at the time.
Peter had been gone a day and a half now.
If this was one of her family's stories, Peter would come back with the head of a Tyrannosaurus Rex on a stick and present it to her with great aplomb. Or the Tyrannosaurus Rex would come back with Peter in his teeth.
When Peter finally did return, bloody and bruised but with a wide, pleased smile on his face, the head he presented her with looked to be from an animal the size of a large dog.
She narrowed her eyes and studied it closely from the top of its lizardy head to the sawed off bottom of its lizardy neck. It was true, she hadn't exactly specified the size of the dinosaur. And so, in the end, she supposed this counted.
"All right, you can claim me now," she said.
The story would probably get better in the retelling anyway.
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Date: 2009-02-11 01:53 am (UTC)Also- this is fabulous. I LOVE Wednesday's firmly held Addams traditions, and of course Peter would rush off and do it. I could absolutely see this happening.
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Date: 2009-02-11 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 02:29 am (UTC)At least he's spent enough time in here over the past two days that he knows which office holds the computer he needs to get his hands on, and which corridors should be empty and when.
Should, being the operative word.
He and Dean always used to agree on one simple fact: the dead should stay dead. Okay, they've both changed their minds on that lately, but he thinks Dean wouldn't disagree that some of the dead should stay dead, nailed in their graves for the rest of eternity.
"Get the fuck away from that desk," he says when he breaks into the office and finds it already occupied, raising his gun and aiming it right at Jake Talley's head.
"Whoa, hey," he says stumbling right back into the office chair, nearly falling on his ass. He obviously wasn't expecting anyone, or maybe just not expecting to ever see Sam Winchester again. "Hey, just take it easy."
"Yeah, I don't think so," says Sam. "Last time I did that you shot me in the back."
"What?" he says. "Hey, no, no, I ain't never shot anyone in the back. I've never even shot anyone in the front. Or the side. Or anywhere in the general torso region."
"Shut up," said Sam. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I don't think I can tell you that," he says, glancing at the door behind Sam. Shit. He is expecting someone else. Sam kicks the door shut quietly behind him and advances on Jake. "Job security and all."
"You think Lilith's going to have your head if you tell me?" says Sam. "Yeah, let me let you in on a secret. She's going to do that anyway. What, does she own your soul?" He peers closer, right into his eyes. "Maybe that's not even Jake in that body anymore."
"No, no it's not!" he says quickly. "I'm Hardison."
Sam snickers. "Hardison? Really? Bet the other demons beat you up on hell's playground for that."
"Hell's what? No man, you've got it all wrong. My name's Hardison. Har-di-son. And if you're looking for demons, my friend, you're looking in the wrong place."
"I'm not your friend, and I know exactly what I'm looking at. Get away from that computer and get on the floor."
He does, finally, shutting up though his eyes look frantically at the door again. Well, good. These days, Sam doesn't feel as guilty about a little justifiable fear.
When he looks at the computer, though, he frowns at what he sees. "What the hell were you doing in here?"
The question is supposed to be rhetorical, as Sam flips through to the right program and alters the record. It's pretty easy when someone else has already hacked in.
"Giving someone a criminal record?" he offers.
Sam hardens again after that. "Who, me? My brother? What's she got you doing?"
"I don't even know who you are," says Jake. Hardison. Whatever. "Unless your name is A.J. Reynolds and you were accused but never charged with child molestation, I've got nothing against you, man. So how about you put that gun down?"
For the first time, Sam thinks about it. Something is just not right here. Demons lie, but they're usually a lot less earnest about it.
"Who are you?"
"Hardison. Seriously, do you have some kind of hearing problem going on? Because I know this great doctor over in Chicago. Well, I don't know her, but I've heard of her. I can get you an appointment in, like, five minutes."
Sam would have said something else to that, but while he's been talking to Jake's doppelganger someone's crept into the office and circled around behind him, and suddenly there's a sharp pain at the base of his skull, right before the darkness.
When he wakes up again the guy and his accomplice are gone, and Dean's hovering over him hissing that they need to get out of there now, and Sam's left wondering what the hell just happened. Wondering if he'll ever really know.
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Date: 2009-02-11 02:39 am (UTC)"Hey, no, no, I ain't never shot anyone in the back. I've never even shot anyone in the front. Or the side. Or anywhere in the general torso region."
So very VERY Hardison. Oh, how I love him.
Also, Eliot cameo! Love! THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY.
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Date: 2009-08-20 04:18 am (UTC)"Last time I did that you shot me in the back."
Didn't Jake stab Sam in the back?
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Date: 2009-02-11 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 02:56 am (UTC)"You're nuts, man, going into a situation like that unarmed," said Dean, giving a low whistle and shaking his head.
"Bite your tongue, son, I wasn't unarmed. I'm better armed without a gun than you'll ever be with one."
"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you go up against a werewolf with just your bare hands and see how well that works out for you."
"Werewolf," he scoffs. "Right. Because those are such a huge problem in my line of work."
"Hey, you never know," says Dean, draining the last of his beer. "We'll see who you call the first time you run into one."
He shrugs then, and drains his own beer. "Right man for the right job," he says. "You're not going to see me arguing with that one."
They met through Caleb, back when Dean was barely twenty-three and just months removed from losing his baby brother to a normal life. Dean was looking to pick up some new weaponry; Eliot was looking to unload some guns he'd stripped off some mercenaries overseas.
It was the start of a beautiful friendship.
"So you got out of the bar with just a shiner?" says Dean. "You got lucky, man. You know that, right?"
"How was I supposed to know it was a lesbian bar anyway?"
"Did you at least get a good show before you got tossed out on your ass?"
Eliot just scowls and crosses his arms.
"Loser," says Dean, shooting him a grin before buying another round of beers.
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Date: 2009-02-11 03:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 03:04 am (UTC)*Keyboard smash*
Date: 2014-09-06 06:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 03:04 am (UTC)i mean...please D:
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Date: 2009-02-11 04:04 am (UTC)And sometimes Castiel comes to Dean in his sleep silently, not tapping his consciousness, not taking him aside but instead standing and watching him in his most vulnerable moments. Watching his eyelids flutter as he sleeps, as dreams overtake him. Watching his fingers clutch at the thin covers, watching his breath come quicker, watching a flush rise up through his body.
Castiel struggles to understand man, to understand his motivations and desires. He struggles with questions no angel is meant to face, and wonders how frail man is able to understand them so much better.
There are questions he would ask if he dared, questions that he thinks Dean would find intrusive. Invasive. But he doesn't know any other way to discover what he needs to know.
He struggles to understand man. He struggles to understand Dean. But more than that, he struggles to understand himself.
An angel is watching over Dean, but sometimes he can't do anything about what he sees.
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Date: 2009-02-11 04:07 am (UTC)Or, y'know, Misha/ANYONE OMG THAT MAN IS HOT.
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Date: 2009-02-11 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 11:14 pm (UTC)