Iron Author, stolen from stakebait

[camwyn]

I'm supposed to be working on four or five other things at the moment, but I could do with a bit of a challenge. Between Hellblazer: Hogwarts and Who Ya Gonna Owl? (which I will be working on this weekend), I've got two very large story arcs to hand. I've also got a novel that I started writing ages ago and have stalled on recently. I would like to write something small and interesting from an idea kicked to me from someone else... and this time I'm not going to ask you to write first. If you've been around for the first rounds, you know the drill. If not, this is a common writing exercise, inspired by cadhla and suitably adapted.

You can have fanfiction

Give me a character and one thing more -- a mood, a genre, a situation, an episode -- and I'll write you at least a drib right here in the comments. (A pairing and a situation are okay too, if you'd prefer. However, I am far more proficient at genfic.).

If you're on my friends list I suspect you already know what fandoms I can handle. Not taking any requests for people from Joss Whedon shows, as I never really watched them to begin with. If you're not sure, ask, and I'll see what I can do.


Unlike stakebait I am not proficient in poetry, so you're not gettin' any.

On the other hand, you're free to ask for original fiction.

Give me a genre (mystery, science fiction, porn, etc.) and a starting point, be it situation, character, dilemma, etc. And I will write you a dribble of original fiction -- most likely brand new, but possibly using a world or characters I've created in the past. I reserve the right to try to turn one of these into a real story and sell it, in the unlikely event that I'm attacked by inspiration.

Afterwards I'll do up a post or two with links to each comment, so people don't have to wade through the threads to find them.

Comments

[neotoma.livejournal.com]

Just to get you thinking about "Who you Gonna Owl?" : Janine Melnitz and Severus Snape, 'tea and sympathy'

[camwyn]

Will you settle for what I put in the comments listed below?

Not quite sympathy, but.

[camwyn]

Over time, one comes to know the rhythms of the places one frequents. The ebb and flow of one's favourite tea-shop's customers is a remarkably predictable thing, varying only in its precise compositions. True, the rhythm may appear chaotic to those who look on it from without, but in actuality it is not. No, most often all that is portended by the semblance of disorder is a minor variation, a sub-rhythm occurring more or less regularly than an outsider expects. Nonetheless it is, in fact, regular; and one gets used to that. After too long a time forced to endure the endless mewlings of incompetent students and excessively interfering parents, one comes to appreciate- nay, cherish- the continuity of a decently secluded booth in a reasonably quiet tea-shop.

Which is why the arrival of the red-headed American woman all but knocked me from my seat. The door to T. M. Ward's (a painfully plain shop to be sure, but many things of excellence may be hidden in plain sight and this is no exception) slammed open with the force of one of Longbottom's exploding cauldrons, and she stormed in. "That- is- IT!" she yelled, though neither I nor the girl behind the counter seemed to be addressed. "I've had ENOUGH! First they leave mouse guts all over the garbage disposal, then they slap a Post-It on my desk and head off to England, then they nearly get themselves blown up and expect me to do something about it! Coffee, black, strongest ya got," she added, that last flung at the counter-witch.

"Ah. . . we don't-"

"Iron Goddess of Mercy, then! With extra sugar!" There was a peculiarly nasal whine to her voice, characteristic of those folk with the incredible ill fortune to populate the vicinity of New York City. "Oooh, one of these days Dr. V's gonna wake up with both my hands wrapped around his neck-"

"Madam," I said- for I sensed I was on the verge of losing my own temper- "would you please be so kind as to curb your ranting? Some of us come to this place looking for peace and quiet, thank you."

She stared at me over her half-moon glasses. "Sorry," she snapped, sounding not the least bit so. "I just flew across the Atlantic on a borrowed broom with a spare proton pack on my back, all because my boss couldn't keep track of-"

"You are making the mistake of assuming that I care," I returned.

I had thought that might silence her, or at least send her away, but it appeared I was mistaken. She completely ignored me, and kept right on talking. "-straight into the Irish Sea!" she was saying as my sentence finished. Merlin and Dee together, she then proceeded to sit down across from me! Without so much as a by-your-leave! "I'll tell you, if I don't get hazard pay for this, they're gonna regret it-"

"Madam, please, remove yourself-"

(continued in next comment)

Comment part 2

[camwyn]

But the counter-witch brought her tea to my table and fled before I could do a thing about it. The American woman sniffed at her cup briefly before picking it up. I doubt she realised she'd done so, though, because rather than drink, she continued in her raving. "They're just lucky I learned to fly on Ecto-2. That broom of Ray's handles like a pregnant whale-"

I brought both my hands down on the table. "MADAM," I barked; it was enough. Her mouth clapped shut with a nearly audible click, a gratifying sound if I do say so. "I know neither you nor your employer. Neither do I care. You are intruding upon my privacy-"

"Privacy? It's a public place-"

"Indeed. This tea-shop is a public place. There are, however, other seats available." I waved a hand at the environs. "As a matter of fact, the vast majority of this place is currently open to whosoever chooses to sit here. You, however, have intruded upon my seating area. Either remove yourself at once or present a compelling reason why I should not remove you instead."

If it were possible to cast Incendio without the use of a wand, I dare say my hair would have caught on fire under her glare. "Well, excuse me for wanting to vent," she answered, her manicured nails drumming against the surface of the table like the talons of an angry hawk. "Dr. Spengler nearly got his head blown off, but I suppose that wouldn't be of interest to ya." She started to rise.

"Wait." I don't believe I've moved so fast since the last time Nymphadora Tonks passed through my classroom; my hand clamped down on her wrist before she could go any further. "Did you say Spengler?"

"Yeah." She nodded, that ridiculously stiff hair of hers bobbing with the force of it.

"Not, perchance, Egon Spengler? Of Durmstrang?"

"Well, I dunno about any Durmstrang, but that's his name-"

I let go of her wrist. I fear my grip had been strong enough to leave a bit of a mark. As she started to rub at it, I fell back just a touch in my own chair. "I. . . apologise," I said, the words coming reluctantly. "It appears we have a mutual acquaintance. Please- sit, miss. . .?"

"Melnitz," she said sourly. "Janine Melnitz."

"Ah." I nodded. "Severus Snape."

Re: Comment part 2

[neotoma.livejournal.com]

Oh, this is too funny. Severus cultivating an academic contact, Janine getting a sympathetic ear to rant to -- match made in heaven. It will scare the dickens out of anyone if Janine decides Severus needs defending (think of RGB Janine here, obviously. That's a dangerous woman for you.)

Is Janine a witch here? She is flying on a broom -- which Peter will give her no end of grief about.

Egon better watch out. Severus is too bright for his own good and beaky, which is exactly Janine's type... and while RGB Egon might not be returning her affection whole-heartedly, he certainly gets pissy when she makes eyes at someone else.

Re: Comment part 2

[derien.livejournal.com]

Nar, it's obviously a post-Snape/Egon story...

*hides her slasher head before getting it swiped off*