WIP Meme

[beccastareyes]

WIP MEME: post a little bit of each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick). No context, no explanations.


1.

Winry nodded. "Can I take it here?" The clerk nodded, and Winry grabbed a nearby phone, careful to not let the cable trip anyone up. No video screen, but she could ask for one if she needed it. Or convince whoever this was to talk to Ambassador Tringham. She picked up the phone and waited for the clerk to route the call through.

"About damn time. You'd think you all weren't innocent bystanders or something."

"Envy?" Winry would recognize the voice anywhere. She balanced the phone receiver while grabbing for pen and paper. Even if Envy merely had picked the worst time to harass her about her search for him, she wanted someone to start recording.

"You were expecting the High Priestess or something, little girl? I'm surprised they didn't try to give me the run-around more. I didn't tell them why I was calling."

2.

Toph put her feet on the table. While Zuko knew she was capable of being the respected sifu of the Avatar or a young Earth Kingdom noble, he also knew she took great pleasure in reminding people she was also a rude, crude Earthebender. "Look, Firelord Sparky, I don't kid about things like this. Now, if I wanted to send you on a wild dragon chase, I know a lot of tall tales." She wasn't looking at him -- Toph generally wasn't known for her ability to focus on faces -- but he could see a serious expression on her face, despite her caviler disregard for the furniture.

3.

After the two had headed into the other room, Amelia started to speak. "I'm sorry for dragging you out here, and I'm willing to go alone to Jarei-"

"Oh, hell, no," Mister Zelgadis said. "You'll get into trouble if you don't have someone there watching your back and holding you back. I'm starting to think that's a full-time job."

"I did pretty well here in Redcliffe," Amelia said. "I didn't make one speech about Justice, no matter how tempted I was. And there was only one time I tried a dramatic entrance."

"Two," Mister Zelgadis said, holding up two fingers. "Remember the night of the storm?"

"That wasn't a dramatic entrance, that was a charge."

4.

Piandao could see the onset of the eclipse in the shadows from the trees as he hiked the final approach to the tower.  The sudden rush of of the Moon's shadow  over the mountain was the signal, and Piandao acted, sprinting the final distance towards the prison. Timing was everything.  No solar eclipse lasted long, and he would have to count that he had judged Iroh correctly without having any word from him. 

    By the time he arrived at the gates, he was wondering where the cries of alarm had been.  By the time he was through the gates, the pinprick light of the Sun was returning, and a figure approached from within: Iroh.  Piandao straightened, sheathing his sword.  "It seems my assistance wasn't needed."

    "I thank you for granting it anyway," Iroh said, dipping his head.  "Shall we go?"

5.

Your eyes cast downward towards the Ahnk's city,
Alike small flats, unremarkable outside,
The home of Violet, former tooth fairy,
And Bilious, divine avatar of
Temp working, hangovers, and other things,
Regretted when one wakes, rosy-fingered
Dawn light a-shining through the curtains, like
So many rays of searing day-star beams.
Well after smog had coated roofs with brown,
The pair arose, as there came such a sound,
Towards Kitchen, Bilious, still huddled with,
A pillow o'er his head and sheets entangled,
betwixt his feet and bedposts, tying down.
'Don't worry', Violet said, as she reach'd down,
Removing a large cricket bat, a nail
Set in its blade. "One swing and any thief,
Unliscenc'd, as I've paid the Guild this month,
Will go as quietly as if he, or she,
Had never sought to break our slumber with,
A racket in the silverware drawers.

6.

Zoe spent a lot of time sitting in the galley these days. It wasn't that there was much space in Serenity anyway for people who weren't working -- you pretty much had your quarters and the galley, or space in the cargo bay if it wasn't full of boxes or cattle or pots of rice seedlings or whatever (stuff) Mal had them hauling around this time to pay to keep the ship in fuel and parts, and the crew in food, water and air.

7.

I pulled myself through the airlock after her, through a narrow passage and into the control room. It looked... well, once I got a chance to visit Washington, on Earth, where there's a museum devoted to the history of spaceflight. They had replicas of some of the old craft -- some of the originals as well, behind glass and all the preservation you could give to the old ladies. But the replicas were positioned so you could see inside, and they were cramped.

We fly trillions of kilometers, instead of the tens of kilometers you'd do on a suborbital hop, but the mail ship's control room didn't look like things had changed much. Sure, the computer controls were modern, and there wasn't much of a window to speak of, but there still remained two seats, some pouches for food and gear, and not much else. I tied down my duffle into one of the netted pouches and I pulled myself into a couch, careful not to kick anything. Miss Aborin joined me in the spare, and immediately started to type. "You don't mind if I take some pictures?" I asked.

"Tourist?" she asked, not even looking up.

"Journalist."

"Oh," she said. "Go ahead, but most people know what a mail ship looks like."
"You'd be surprised," I said. They weren't the type of thing that got shown on the shows. For one, it was pretty damn hard to film in one, even a computer generated one where you could remove pieces to get a camera in. It's hard to capture that kind of cramped claustrophobic experience. I'd heard somewhere that long-time spacers had developed the ability to sit perfectly still. Watching Miss Aborin started to make me understand where that story came from. Her hands moved and I could see her eyes darting about, but the rest of her body sat poised in the chair, motionless. Even when she reached, the only time I thought her elbows moved was when absolutely necessary, like she was aware exactly how much space she took up and was keeping it to a minimum.

8.

"You too. So, you wanted to tell me about why you're studying wormholes?" Doctor Arroway asked.

"Actually, I wanted to trade you. My story for yours."

Doctor Arroway gave her a stern look, and Mary could imagine that she was quite sick of being asked about her fifteen months of fame. "I don't really tell that story," she said.

"I don't really tell my story either. But I think it will be a fair trade. If you disagree… well, then I'll have given you an outlandish tale for free." Mary took a swallow of her drink, rather larger than she had expected. "Are you familiar with the Multiple Worlds theory of quantum mechanics?"

Doctor Arrowway nodded. "It's out of vogue, thanks to Eda's Grand Unified Theory, but I remember it from grad school quantum. And Star Trek."

Mary nodded. "Good. That saves some explaining."

I need to find more of my original stuff that needs editing. I think I'm at the point where I don't hate my first-finished NaNo, just need to rip out the good bits for something.