Character Fiction 1 – Your character’s first date

I Should Tell You I’m Disaster / I Forget How To Begin It / Let’s Just Make This Part Go Faster / I Have Yet — To Be In It
“I Should Tell You” – Rent

A sense of something important and a quiet voice was all she had left of the memory. “It must have been good,” she thought, “or the ritual wouldn’t have worked.” Genie wondered what she’d had that was good enough to sate that…thing.The world flared green as Chappy’s hands glowed brighter and bright. The hand at her back never left. Opening her eyes, Jeanette felt good. Better than good. She felt amazing. Was this how radiation felt all the time or just when you were already full of it?

Genie surprised herself and the entire posse by laughing. Her skin was pale, her expression was tired and she looked weak enough to fall backwards, but she laughed loud and hearty, bordering on worrying.

Chappy seemed unsure with the results, but she told them all she felt fine and that if it wasn’t meant to be, she’d keep going, same as before. Walking off from the group to try and absorb it all, she leaned back against a wall and found Hector right behind her. “He’s been close for the whole night,” she thought. He’d been watching out for her, checking in on her, and standing close. he was…being affectionate.

Could it be…?

Genie tried to piece it all together with the past. He’d bought her the reflecting dish back in Junkyard. He’d vouched for her to Ike specifically and the rest of the team in general. He’d started offering her a beer after a hard day and asking into her projects. He’d held her hand for a moment before the ritual. Maybe, with life being short and dirty, that was “Dating Post Apocalypse”.

Still, he was standing there trying to think of how to say something. She wanted to ask him about all these undercurrents as well, but she was as lost as he was. The Private Specialist had never dated after college, and those had all been brief. She had to stop the awkward silence.

“You know…you shot me with a vacuum. I’ve seen better first impressions.” His face darkened a bit as his reply came without any nervousness. “It’s not a vacuum.”

Genie smiled and shrugged. “I know.” Both of them chuckled, ice broken…

The sharp whistle from Carrie brought heads around as she spotted the Junker and engineer, kissing in the corner of the blasted room.

Trusting Desire – Starting To Learn / Walking Through Fire Without A Burn / Clinging – A Shoulder, A Leap Begins /Stinging And Older, Asleep On Pins / So Here We Go
“I Should Tell You” – Rent

Camchar Prompt 11

A short piece from the Cam fiction prompts at http://community.livejournal.com/camchar

Prompt 11: Memories – Your PC’s first date.

She’d seen him at the Waffle House at 2am. One of those guys from the Dropouts cabal. Computer geeks, rebels and troublemakers, really. Still…she was bored and had slid into his booth. Without permission of course. Connie and Six has bantered for an hour over coffee and ideals before it was time to try and head home. He seemed to be ready to go as well and she stretched long, looking up at the stars before scanning the parking lot and spotting Six approaching a gorgeous little red sports car.
She whistled low as the man slid a key into the driver’s side and sat down. Connie leaned over the open door and smirked. “Come on Mr. Toad. Care to show me a wild ride?” It was a corny line, but she hadn’t hit on a guy since Awakening. It seemed pointless when the only available people who might understand her day to day struggles and life were other inhabitants of the supernal looney bin.
He considered it for a few seconds before glancing at the Waffle House over his shoulder and smirking. “Sure. Get in.” He didn’t have to ask her twice.
The ride was indeed wild, fast and banking through the back roads of north Georgia before he went to take her home. It was already past four in the morning and Six hinted at wanting to come in rather than slink home. She had put him on the couch…no need to put out the first night. He took it better than she expected, though grumbled for awhile.
From her bedroom, Connie popped open her phone and texted Kerri and Sojourner:
I met a guy and he has a HAWT car.
A hour before, the real owner had reported the incident to the police.

Camchar Prompt 10

A short piece from the Cam fiction prompts at http://community.livejournal.com/camchar

Prompt 10: Spark Word – Paradise

Luke 16:42-43
Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. Jesus answered him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Melinda had murdered the wolfblood trapped in the ritual in south Georgia, to save him.
Melinda had assaulted and injured another, in both self defense, possession and anger.
Melinda had stolen, mostly documents but sometimes the odd item of value to ‘the greater good’.
Melinda had failed to honor her father, refusing to speak to him for a year after she left Harmony against his wishes.
Melinda had taken the Lord’s name in vain and pointless oath, out of fear and caving to popular speech.
Melinda had worked hard and long through Sundays, especially recently in Mobile.
Melinda had lied, white and ‘harmless’ to the Uratha who believed her when she appeared frail or sickly or injured.
Melinda had envied and coveted what God had given to another, wishing at times He had granted her the power that the werewolves were given and often squandered.
But she had never committed adultery.
Or asked spirits or their images for protection rather than the Lord.
Melinda always knew that, no matter what their mythology said, the highest being in the universe looked down on the werewolves and blessed them with his divine purpose on their lives, to keep the spirits of Eden and the primal times from touching mankind and to prevent man from returning to paradise rightly lost.
“Jesus, please remember me when you come into your kingdom, for I have always remembered you.”

Camchar Prompt 9

A short piece from the Cam fiction prompts at http://community.livejournal.com/camchar

Prompt 9: Spark Word – Discipline

It was cold and the sorrow of winter twisted inside her and out. Priss sat on the ground in the rain and watched Nameless Sword in despair. She didn’t want to think about her Keeper. She didn’t want to remember the soft beds and soothing words and mindless acceptance when she should have known better and done more and tried harder. That thought was all he was asking of her now. Sternly. Her voice took on the desperate edge of begging.
“How is remembering going to help? I know it happened. I just…if I think about certain parts…it gets worse.”
Nameless sighed in response to her pain, trying to approach the mental blocks she was keeping from the right angle. Priss heard the sigh and simply more disappointment and failure. “What? You just stand there and ask things that don’t hurt you at all!”
This clearly stung, as the ogre bared his teeth in threat her the Beast catgirl, “We all have our torments, little sister. I am trying to do for you what my master did for me, instead of resorting to what instinct would suggest.”
His growling and the power of his Wyrd caused her to cringe and attempt to sink away into the ground. Finally, she cast her eyes to the ground to give him the dominance in eye contact and whimpered apologetically, “You’re not Them.”
“No, I am not and that is why I will not simply eat you. Yet instinct tells me you have been spoiled, coddled, and allowed for yourself to weaken. Instinct tells me to cast drive you into the wilderness where you will either survive by your strength or find those things lost. Or you simply do not survive at all.”

Camchar Prompt 8

A short piece from the Cam fiction prompts at http://community.livejournal.com/camchar

Prompt 8: First Line – This was completely unexpected.

This was completely unexpected. Despite being in Athens, Ohio and prepping to enter combat with genocidal religious zealots, Margaret felt like the odds weren’t bad. She was cleaning her shotgun with a familiar sense of the weight and power in the length of it.
The cell phone rang and she recognized it as Gabby, clicking the phone on for the opening pleasantries. Then…
“I took a little trip down to Mobile with some folks, and watched some Khaibit kill a Strix.”
Margaret listening and thought back on the Necropolis of Windsor and how she knew the Khaibit could affect them. The doctor was supposed to have reported on it, but never did.
“God, did that not get in the Necropolis report? I swear, I’ll kill that man one day. Yes, the Khabit have shown the ability to see a Strix and claimed to be able to stab them without disturbing the host. Was that the case?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line before Gabby continued, sounding depressed. “Well. It’s not what they did. It’s… who the Strix was in.” Gabby sounds depressed. “Doc Aziz.”
A choking noise escaped Margaret’s throat and Billy looked up from meditation to watch her carefully, not yet interrupting. “I…see…”
“Since Istanbul.”
Margaret felt the Beast roaring to the surface in her despair and prayed in her mind as she fought to soothe it down with her composure and the gifts of the blood. Still, she could never recall what she said to Gabby next or the fact that she hung up on her. Billy continued to watch, waiting for the news that clearly upset his wife so badly. When she had told him, his rotting lips parted slightly as if to say something, then closed without further comment.
She heard the ‘I told you so.’ anyway.

Camchar Prompt 7

A short piece from the Cam fiction prompts at http://community.livejournal.com/camchar

Prompt 7: Memories – The last time your PC danced.

Chase had been the perfect gentleman, offering out a hand and asking her to dance. Margaret was panicked at the offer, protesting she hadn’t danced in decades and couldn’t really remember the steps. Still, the ladies man of the Florida Carthians pulled at her gently until she rose and walked Margaret out to the dance floor, the picture of patience.
“We’ll start with your right foot to the side and slide the other foot to meet it. The right foot back and slide back the other. Left to the side, right to meet it. Left forward and slide.” Their movements were not in time, and she gripped his hand too hard, but Margaret followed his directions a few times until she felt safe enough to speed up to the music.
Her occasional mentor smiled and nodded, “Now you’re waltzing.” For several minutes she tried to concentrate and smile at the same time, without tripping over her long royal blue gown or brushing at the peacock feathers in her hair, drifting closer and closer with each step to tickling her ear. Still, the dance was over swiftly and with a brief nod of his head and a wink, her teacher was gone.
…to be replaced immediately with a giant in a suit, walking like a man with a distinct purpose. If she didn’t know better, Margaret would have suspected her ‘partner in crime’, Mr. Billy Falinchanz, was jealous. Secretly, despite the surprise, the thought tickled her.
“One more?”, was all he asked, offering a hand that dwarfed hers without effort, yet still kept the strength she knew was there in check.
“Okay.” The next few minutes were an adventure, dodging the feet as large as the rest of the man and avoiding crashing into more experienced couples, trading the lead again and again. Still, she was happy. Shockingly, sincerely happy, sharing a moment with someone who might actually know her without the masks and pride.
Remington and Laura, David and Maddie, always in the thick of it but thank God never alone. It had been so long since the last moment of peace, to believe the world might have a place for laughter and music and dancing. Brief, but time enough to remember with the memory of the dead.

Camchar Prompt 6

A short piece from the Cam fiction prompts at http://community.livejournal.com/camchar

Prompt 6: What If – What if today/tonight was your PC’s last day/night on Earth?

Helen had tried everything, but the hunger spirit had backed her into a corner. It’d fix everything, but she’d be dead by midnight. She was allowed to end it all early, if she wanted, but the time left was fixed. Best not to tell the clutch. Someone’d get all heroic and try something drastic and she couldn’t have that hanging on her when she died. The death of one of the People was too harsh, even for an Elodoth that skirted the rules.
Still, there had been one rule she couldn’t resist. The few times her ‘roommate’ had taken a human form, the results had been impressive. Rich suit, strong and tall, good features and no hair, with a corporate glint in his eyes. Yes, Hartsfield Jackson Airport could clean up when it wanted to. And seeing the way her eyes were starting to look sunken and the purple leather jacket draped too large on her frame, the spirit (for some reason) had accepted. No time for Cling to the Human. Cling to Life was the first rule with Cling to Pleasure following behind.
Getting weaker by the minute and feeling the pain gnawing at her gut, the Uratha called Dead Man’s Curve gunned her Triumph as fast as it would go, racing sirens and praying that when she fell from the seat the open road would kill her quickly and accept her soul home.

Camchar Prompt 5

A short piece from the Cam fiction prompts at http://community.livejournal.com/camchar

Prompt 5: Spark Word – Ghost

She could feel them both sometimes, watching with disapproval. One was a weight on her heart and the other a flitting shade throughout the burned patches of grass at the fairgrounds.
My hair isn’t braided. I’m wearing jeans. I slept with Six last night. I haven’t studied the books yet today. I ran off with his hat.
Ravnos’s last note had kicked her in the gut. He had been disappointed in her and sure that it required his death to save her from herself. He hadn’t believed in her, all the way to the end.
Liliana was a different matter. He books were rich with magic in the Fallen world and the patterns of tradition in Rom culture that allowed that power to touch humanity. She wasn’t her real grandmother though, just the wife of the man who’d slept with her grandmother…
She was no Moros, but Connie often felt surrounded by ghosts. The sound of Chance’s music coming up from the basement with whiffs of imaginary pot smoke. Vegas’s laughter and Rebecca talking on the phone about some business or another. The house was blank and alone most nights and she avoided it half the time.
The fairgrounds were worse. There was supposed to be music. There was supposed to be magic and laughter. Rough noises of roadies and the barking of the midway and the secret longing to feel something magical from the rubes, even for a little while.
Hanging onto the past was one thing, but what do you call it when the past hangs onto you?

Camchar Prompt 4

A short piece from the Cam fiction prompts at http://community.livejournal.com/camchar

Prompt 4: First Line – There was no way out.

There was no way out. Like an idiot, she’d sat further towards the darker part of the bar, away from the lights and sounds of March Irish Drinking Day that came in through the front door. She’d expected Sojourner to come through that door, or no one of consequence. So when the self-made wreck of a man entered, unwashed and unshaved, flipping a coin and glancing over the crowd, the Kindred hadn’t known what to make of it. Being a Lord, she knew the cost of that suit had been staggering, and the food and booze currently matted on the rumpled surface astounded her. He offered what could have been a charming smile, had he any energy or interest to put into it.
Mr. ‘Hollywood’ had begun breaking down when she asked him why he was there. Pounding back two shots with a speed that made her uneasy, he apologized repeatedly to no one for a time before explaining that Sojourner was dead. It made sense in a way, after the weakness of pulse Margaret had felt and didn’t surprise her. But this man was answering her mail and invitations. She would miss the yearly talks with the petite black woman, who nearly sparkled, even when discussing thinks that upset her. Given a few more years, Margaret might have even offered to save her with the Embrace. Sojourner had seemed like someone the world would need for a bit longer, at least, breathing or no.
Trying some sort of polite comfort revealed that this man was not merely some friend or associate…but a husband. Words of condolence died on her lips as Margaret Calloway-Bellemore looked up and down the barstool beside her and knew she would take a similar road if Billy died before her. She did not try to comfort him further.
Suddenly, time seemed to hiccup around the pair as he made some sort of strangled noise and put the third shot glass down. People and sounds at the edges of her vision sped up with an invisible fast forward button and all sense of pity or humane empathy with this creature vanished.
Yes, the figure (it clearly couldn’t be a simple human with that level of a trick) blocking the path to the door was in pain, but it was also emotionally distraught, drunk, unbalanced and stunningly powerful. To punctuate her thoughts, he muttered something about ‘I would have destroyed reality for her’.
Margaret swore under her breath and wondered if demi-gods could be made to safely pass out, ordering another pair of those shots.

Camchar Prompt 3

A short piece from the Cam fiction prompts at http://community.livejournal.com/camchar

Prompt 3: What If – What if your character woke up one morning to find he/she had somehow changed gender?

The situation made itself very clear when Connie rolled over in bed and accidentally…well, twisted herself up. Waking with a yelp, the Acanthus had found the problem immediately and straightened it out. Then she’s stared at it for awhile.
You have to be shitting me. That’s…
Am I in someone else’s body?
Later she’d be mildly embarrassed with how well she took it all. It was probably due to being trapped in that Life Paradox years ago and growing muscles everywhere. Took some of the bite out of weird wake up calls.
The shape was wrong to be any body she actually knew, well, knew from the waist down, anyway. Soft as the stomach was, it didn’t scream hacker and layabout, so the Dropouts were out. Checking the mirror didn’t help either. No, clearly the hair was her brown (though shorter) and the shape was hers, minus a few accessories at the top and bottom. Pursing her lips, a stray thought told her that ‘Connor’ in the mirror there wasn’t really impressing anyone, compared to muscle-guys like Kiba or Life masters like Ronni.

Wow, when they said ‘grow a pair’ they weren’t kidding. Okay, jokes aside, what could be the point of this? Either the Seers doesn’t expect me to accomplish passing on the genetics with 9 months of my own time and effort, so they’re trying this in the older ‘guy’ way, faster with more targets…or…Rook is trying to teach me a lesson about something only he thinks is important.

Either was, she would very shortly be on the phone, telling Rook to fix it and fix it now.