Bandaid (49 words)

It was Kaidoh who cleaned the wound and applied antiseptic, and it was also Kaidoh who applied all of the bandaids in the kit to his hand. Inui was about to say it was enough when Kaidoh placed the third bandaid, but something about Kaidoh's mood kept him silent.

Deathgames chapter 3 (81 words)

Already the black butterflies have become a common sight. 'It takes time,' Ukitake had said, 'You'll get used to it. After a while you'll start seeing ghosts, then hearing them. Maybe help one or two transition to Soul Society.'

Shindou didn't bother to say he'd been there, done that.

Every jigokuchou sighting made him restless. Once he'd followed one on the way from the Go Association, but he couldn't really chase after them when they head to the sky, could he?

Holmes (I forgot the description!) (122 words)

"Ingenious, he had recently returned from a trip in South America, and possessing the bad habit of collecting things in his pocket, a habit that renders his card rather the worse for wear. And he rolls his own cigarettes as well. The print on the rightmost corner was made with a stamp and India ink, notably that of well-kept house of limited means. Said stamp was made by a skilled craftsman, possibly a whaler on a piece of ivory. It's likely to be a gift from an acquaintance met during his extensive travels, one who developed a close tie with his family."

"And why do you say that?"

"It is a sprig of St. John's Wort, a design chosen for sentimental reasons."

Hyotei V-day rabu (132 words)

"They don't suit you - you're so uncool with them." Gakuto thought Yuushi looked cool whatever he wore - or did not wear - but he was feeling very contradictory today. Antsy, Shisido would say, but that's not Gakuto-ish. It must've been all the girls around him even before they got into the campus. Just because it was Valentine's they thought they could hang around the Kansai boy so Yuushi can call them by their names and flirt tenderly. He had to go ahead to practice with Ohtori and Shishido and watching them so sweet on each other just made him feel gross. "Were they presents?"

"Jealous, Gaku-chan?" Yuushi teased, sliding long fingers into Gakuto's red hair, trailing them down to massage Gakuto's skin just under the collar. Gakuto shook his head.

osmalic's LE challenge (140 words)

The signal was a finger to his lips, as he mock-contemplated the complexity of their latest Transfiguration assignment. Lily's reply, sent above the bread and cheeseboard during luncheon, was a mere toss of the head to her right, a glance to the House Slytherin. They managed to walk out of the Great Hall together, and somehow it was passed before James pulled Remus away for a new bit of mischief.

An unsealed scrap of parchment, folded twice and tied with a ragged piece of twine tying his last package from home. She fingered it gently, before heading to her next class.

She nudged books off Severus' table, and he bent to gather them with a muttered curse. She sweetly apologized as she slipped the note in his sleeve, and his stuttered thanks brought a smile at the foibles of lovestruck boys.

Moon (13 squared)

"Maybe she shouldn't have," Lupin conceded, tracing the contours of the goblet with one slim finger. "It must've been the only way she could have him for herself alone, and she did it. But then when you're in love you don't really know what you're doing, isn't that so, Severus?"

That was something that he had understood - achingly so, during his student years in Hogwarts. Always, he sought out a certain figure among Gryffindor's ranks, and always, he'd turn away before their eyes would chance to meet. Hating that weakness, and yet unable to fight it, such a desire had caused the goddess of the myth to imprison her beloved in slumber. It had not made sense, but she'd wanted to grasp at any chance to be by his chance. A hollow remnant of a similar desire had echoed deep in Snape at the start of this year's term, when he'd first gazed at Lupin again. He'd chosen to ignore it then. His old excuses rang true still.

Gyorho (Someone help me come up with a title!) (235 words)

"Shindou knows what it is like to lose something important," he added, writing down kanji spelling the name 'Sai' in the space below the grid. "There was someone by the name of Sai, whose ghost seemed to hover above Shindou. Sai also played go, and he was stronger than anyone I have ever known, but somehow, when all the clues came together all I can think was, 'Sai was inside Shindou.' I knew it, and I told him, on the first game we ever had since he became a professional, but he said that maybe in the future he can tell me what Sai was for him."

"What does it mean for me?"

"When I think about that, I think of how it is for you," Akira continued. "You've lost something very important, and I think you want to find it, but if you do you might go about it the wrong way, and so you're afraid. Shindou almost quit go a year ago, and no one knows why up to now. Maybe no one will find out, maybe it had everything or nothing to do with Sai, but I don't want to betray his trust by asking about it, to him or to the people around him. For me, it is only Shindou who matters, not Sai. Sai is only important because he was the one who showed me what Shindou has become now."

Mood ditzy Tags: bleach, crossover, hng, hp, scenes, snupin, tenipuri

( Hakuseii )

And yet, when he looked up, there was nothing in the sky but gray.
***
What are you dancing? he had asked his grandmother, when she waved her arms softly, gossamer-like, into the air.

A swan, she had replied. She had been a dancer, something, a word he couldn't say anymore for it did not exist. Bai - baile? Dance? Who knows anymore? It has been forever since anyone has even danced.
***
He would not say it, for his misplaced loyalty to Les' extended to the man's intimates, and no, he'd rather not involve them in this.
***
The cards on the ground, dusted with silt, made him think of dead queens and kings littering at his wake.
***
Oh lovely child, on your Christening, my only wish is for everyone to love you throughout life the way they love you now - cherished, worshipped, a small goddess.

Mood blank Tags: original, scenes

SlamDunk Micchan has a scar on his chin - was that from the fight with Miyagi? Though I wouldn't mind going through the scanlations of the Slam Dunk volumes we have, wading through the 20 volumes after vol7 (when Miichan appeared) will be HELL.

Leviathan
A memory. Kouhei smelling not of the empty scent, but of paraffin. In the way that a line connected two points she connected the paraffin with bulletholes and dead bodies, and for one horrible moment what was standing before her was not her lover, but a corpse with hollowed eyesockets. Her stomach churned, she wanted to vomit, cleanse her mouth and her nose from the stench of death that rose so sharply from the man, and forget how close the death was to him. The urge to scream died at her lips when he smiled.
***

Hikaru no Go
Shindou glanced up, and surprised green eyes met determined brown. There was something in that glance that made him breathless. He was out of balance, falling with vertigo. This conversation was dangerous to his sanity, to the face he presented to the world. How could he keep everything normal, and not risk overstepping what they still can't say?
***

Hikaru no Go
The game played on, and Michio became aware of every nuance of Ogata's play, resonating, touching him, sensing the energies behind every stone's fall on the board the same way he remembered the hard planes of the other man's body. His breath hitched, aware. The stones were not hard, but yielding, warm, the go ke was a marvel of curves and shadow. The next stone would fall at 13-5. Ogata would think it was a threat, but he could capture it later, he knew it. How did he know? He had no idea, but the pattern of their game unfolded itself easily in his mind, as naturally as the unfurling of tightly nipped buds to full bloom, as of birds taking flight.
***

L5r: Ryuumi
Migetsu closed his eyes. The slow, measured steps could belong to an artisan trained in theater, but he could tell by this time who it was. Deliberately, he'd come here earlier than his sensei, just to hear him arrive, and to smell the light musk of his scent when he passed by to take his seat.
"Have you been waiting long? Forgive me."
"No, I've only been here for a short time, Ryuudo."
***

L5r: The Lady of the Blue Pavilion
What he remembered the most were her hands. Long pale hands with tapering fingertips, the skin nearly translucent, and long nails painted in crimson. They were fingertips dipped in blood. Those nails cut through the skin when she touched him, and though the skin looked soft they were calloused. From those hands fine filaments of color were transformed to silk of brilliant hues made to garb their princess.
***

Original: Whitewash
"I lived in constant, oppressive dread - the dread of knowing nameless someones, flickering shadows at the back of my mind, these someones were at the same moment that I was writing, they were making better lines, writing characterization that makes people think, turned phrases with deft touches to make them new again. I lived with this paralyzing fear everyday, and instead of writing I stared at the white screen, seeing those magical words being written, pixel by pixel, appearing like an afterimage burning in my eyes from the screen. Urging me to type them down, but I knew better. I knew I can never put their essence down."

Trying to post today is like trying to send messages on a cut telegraph line. Or something like it. I hate my dial-up. :( If anyone can recommend a good, cheap dial-up, please tell me now. For the moment though, I have two unrelated scenes for posting, part of drafts of two (obviously) unrelated fanfics (though the word fanfic is used dubiously on the latter). One is an old fanfic I never continued since, I don't know, two-three years ago? And the other deals with a Trinkets' pair, the Tatsumi-like Cecil and Watari-like Ansel. That ought to give you a clue that they're OOC in this particular snippetage.

Harry Potter fanfic : Shaken away

Fingers, tapping the top of the table.

He didn’t look up from his table, just went on checking his students’ papers. He was concentrating hard in reading the ink-splattered writing on grindylows, and barely registered the taps slowly increasing in pace.

The hand went to a wide forehead, long slender fingers running through greasy black strands which have not met a comb for quite a while. At the end of its journey it propped a strong chin on the table, as the owner released a deep breath.

***

Remus heard the exhaled breath, almost like a sigh, and smiled to himself. It was actually a surprise to see his fellow teacher here, when he usually preferred his haven, down in the dungeons. But then, he had been spending a lot of time with the other professors. If he had been the reason, he was secretly pleased he was.

“Why don’t you try?”

“Because you don’t remember.”

“I don’t remember what?”

Snape stood up. “When you would remember, I’ll try.”

*************

Trinkets' 'fanfic' : Waiting in Vain

How long had he known this boy? Even before he knew Due, even before he was a graduate of the Academy. He'd known this boy when Ansel was so small he couldn't climb up on a high stool Cecil liked to sit on during breaks. But now Ansel didn't need to climb on high stools, he could easily sit on one.

Ansel used to try to climb on his lap just as eagerly as he did those high stools. It was one of those embarrassing displays of affection he tried so hard to stop.

Now he'd give anything to see Ansel smile so brightly up to him, trying to latch on his waist with a well-meant greeting, before they'd start their cat-and-mouse game. Now he'd be lucky if Ansel spared him a greeting, much less a smile.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

Ansel looked at him straight on. "I'm not avoiding you. I've been busy."

"You have been avoiding me," Cecil stated.

"Don't be silly, Cecil. We live in the same apartment; how can I be avoiding you?"

"You're never there anymore. Like last night." Did he sound like he missed the maniac, Cecil thought, chagrined.

"It's not home. Cecil. It's an apartment. You know it's been busy. Anything else?"

What else can he say to that? "Nothing."

"I really have to go." And as Ansel passed him he turned his face to the smaller boy, expecting their usual parting kiss. But Ansel shied away and hurriedly left.

Mood apathetic Music Shinichiro Miki - Believe in Heaven Tags: hp, scenes, snupin, trinkets