Posts tagged WIP
Posts tagged WIP
Chapters 13-16 are up on AO3.
For followers here on Tumblr, you will notice the Avengers/PacRim fusion piece is missing from its published order. This is still growing, and will be put up as its own file when I’ve done a bit more of it, but right now, it’s barely an intro. 8)
For those who wanted to have the Prompt fics in one place, I’m going to be compiling at least the shorter ones into one larger “one fic per chapter” work on AO3 and adding a few every couple of days until they’re all backed up. 8)
Just a few more to go!
(Sorry I am taking so long to finish these, guys. I had a bad week. Let me see if I can do better this week! For peskyredhead, who wanted all the awesome ladies. This is a story I’ve been thinking about for a while, and will continue. New faces and new names, and hopefull, for those of you who have read the comics will find some old friends. 8) )
“I appreciate you meeting with me.”
Pepper smiled. “The pleasure was all mine,” she said, as the elevator doors opened to let them step in. “Especially if we can work out a deal that allows me access to that nanotech of yours.”
Rumiko Fujikawa laughed, the sound warm and natural. “I was warned,” she said, her dark eyes dancing, “that I should be careful when negotiating with the head of SI, and now I see this was no idle talk of old men.”
Pepper smiled at her. She’d met the young CTO of Fujikawa Enterprises at a business conference more than five years ago, and they’d met up several times since then, but this was the first time Rumiko was visiting her on her home turf. And she still had a thrill of pride when she thought of StarkIndustries as her home turf. “Don’t worry,” she said, giving Rumiko a puckish smile, “Tony doesn’t do negotiations any more.”
“I would perhaps do better with him,” Rumiko said, shaking her head. Her asymmetrical bob fell perfectly around her face. “You are far more dangerous, Ms. Potts.”
I skipped June for now. Father’s Day is a pain in the ass.
Enjoy Steve Rogers Gets to Go To Fenway Park for his Birthday!
The second chapter of “Teenage DJ tries to figure out other people and especially girls” is up now on AO3.
Now back to prompts! 8)
For those who prefer it in an easier to read format, Sif and Maria’s adventures in dating has been updated on AO3.
Agent Speer’s eyes got very, very large when Maria stepped into the elevator. Maria decided to take that as a good sign. “Good evening, Agent,” she said, shifting the delicate strap of her clutch purse higher on her shoulder. She had her jacket thrown over her arm, and she considered putting it on now.
She regretted agreeing to meet here at SHIELD, but she didn’t know what would’ve been a better option. She wasn’t going to Avengers Tower, she’d prefer to involve her own people than the Avengers in her love life.
Not that she had a love life. She had a date. One date. Her first date in a very long time.
“Good evening, ma’am.” Speer hugged a leather folio against her chest, her short red curls bouncing as her head jerked in Maria’s direction, and then away. She was blushing, her cheeks so pink that her freckles nearly disappeared. “If I might, ma’am, that is an amazing dress.”
Maria bit back a smile. “Thank you, Agent.”
Agent Speer’s shoulder relaxed, and she risked a smile in Maria’s direction. “Whatever you’ve got planned tonight, ma’am, you’re going to knock ‘em dead.”
((So, Gophersaurus requested, of all things, more of the Spiders and the repair crews from Through the Dark Tide of Memory. It caught me off guard how much I realized I enjoyed the thought of returning to these people, but this time without the strain of telling Steve and Tony’s story specifically. There were people and concepts who got left out and left behind due to space and time constraints. So this prompt was especially welcome. There will be more of this, but for the time being, let’s start here. 8) ))
Malibu Shatterdome was bigger than she’d ever expected.
Anya Corazon huddled into her threadbare coat, shivering under the layers of every piece of clothing that she owned. Her backpack was heavy on her shoulders, even as she crept forward. She’d expected gates and guard towers, she’d expected fences and physical barriers between her and safety. But there was next to nothing. Just a long, unguarded expanse of roads along the long, high cliffs.
All the efforts for protection, for holding back the darkness, was set towards the ocean far below, because that was where the darkness came from. The oceans, dark expanses now beneath the full moon, held untold evils now. There was nothing, no threat or evil, that the land could offer that would even come close to what the Kaiju could do.
But it left Anya with a problem that she hadn’t expected to have. She had no idea how to get in.
The massive walls of the Shatterdome rose, up into the night sky, massive, unbroken sheets of metal that towered over her like a medieval castle. There was a door there, a huge gate, closed tight now. She’d expected a guard or a doorbell or something. But there was nothing.
She took a few steps back, her head tilting back, squinting up at the lights that rimmed the metal walls, eight or nine stories above her head. Searchlights and the diffused glow of lesser lamps cast an almost palpable warmth, and she was so desperate that she considered going back to the door and knocking.
"There’s the voice of doom, gotta go." Darcy dropped the phone back into the cradle and pasted her most benign smile on her face as Hill stalked into what passed for Darcy’s office. It was closer to a supply closet with a desk in it, mostly because that’s what Darcy suspected it had been prior to her arrival. She wasn’t complaining. She liked her little closet. It kept her close to her files and kept everyone else out of them. "Hello, AD Hill! What brings you down here to the nest of vipers that is the science department of SHIELD?"
Hill stared at her, that narrow eyed, flinty look that had caused more than one world leader burst into tears. Darcy found it unsettling, but not as bad as her mother’s. “This has your fingerprints all over it,” Hill said.
Darcy tried to look hurt. “Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, but I think I’m insulted.”
Hill crossed her arms over her chest. “I think you’re full of shit.”
Darcy gave up on trying to look hurt. It wasn’t her best move, anyway, and if she’d really wanted to go that route, she should’ve gone with a subtler lipstick. “Yes, ma’am, so I’ve been told.”
In which DJ Stark is the most awkward teenager ever. Sorry, buddy, but you’re pretty much doomed based on your upbringing.
((the previous parts of this can now be found in one piece on AO3, or linked here: http://scifigrl47.tumblr.com/fic ))
The interoffice mail envelope was marked private and confidential, but that wasn’t exactly uncommon around SHIELD headquarters. The words “This means you!” printed in a broad tip marker, that was a little more unusual.
Maria weighed the bulky envelope in one hand, and, eyes flicking towards the ceiling, she broke the seal. A book with a cheerful cartoon sort of cover hit her desk with a thump, its pages bulging with post-it note flags poking out in all directions. Maria considered it. “What do you know,” she said out loud. “The damn book actually is titled ‘What Do You Say to a Naked Elf?’ I really thought she made that up.”
There was a note in the envelope, and for a second, she considered sweeping the whole mess into the trash can and pretending that it had never arrived. Instead, she fished the page out. Anna’s writing was surprisingly legible, considering her occupation.
“Just in case you decide to join us,” the note said, “you’ll need a copy of this month’s gem. It’s a fast read, and pretty funny. I’ve marked the hot n’ sexy parts with post-it flags, so you can skip ahead if you get bored.”
Maria looked at the book. There were so many bits of florescent colored paper sticking out of the damn that that it looked like it had exploded. “That’s a lot of hot and sexy bits,” she said, her mouth pursed. “And I honestly don’t know if that makes the concept better, or so much worse.” She went back to the note.
“Your hot n’ sexy mileage may vary, according to personal tastes and orientation, but tell you what, if you suck it up and get through this, I’ll nominate you to choose our next ‘happy sexy funtimes’ book. We do it by picking the most excellent titles we can find off the internet after having a bit too much to drink, then we throw all the names in a hat and choose one at random. This one won out over a book about having sex with a dragon.”
Maria’s head tipped to the side. Then went back the other way. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to wrap her mind around that. She was actually happy that she couldn’t. Life had gotten weird over the last few years, but her brain still balked at ‘sex with a dragon.’
As she was one of the few inhabitants of earth with actual access to, well, dragons, that was probably a good thing.
Why, look, it’s June, so of course, I have added the month of March to the Calendar fic.
This month, enjoy as Tony and company enjoy St. Patrick’s Day!
And really regret it the day after.
The second chapter of “Truth Behind Masks,” my weird little identity porn, is up on AO3.
In which Tony makes poor choices and the Avengers are really horrible people.
Steve doesn’t want to be the den mother, it just HAPPENS.
((SPOILERS FOR CAP 2: You know who’s fault this is? It’s Kara’s. It’s Kara's fault. This Kara. Right here. THIS KARA. SHE IS THE WORST. Anyway, we started discussing why Clint didn’t show up in Cap 2. And of course, because KARA IS THE WORST, her immediate explanation was the worst explanation ever. That if Hydra had Loki’s scepter, wouldn’t they want the only controllable victim of that weapon, too? Just how many cages did they have down there, anyway? My Post-Cap 2 fic, still untitled, not part of any of my established verses. Trigger warnings for mentions of physical and mental torture and drugging, but nothing explicit)
She was crying again.
He could barely hear it, most nights. Most days, too. The sound was always faint, muffled by stone and glass and whatever else was in these damn cages. In fact, Clint was surprised he could hear it at all. But somehow, he always did.
Whenever they brought her down, he could hear her crying.
In his more poetic, or drugged moments, he wondered if the sound carried because it so desperately needed to be heard, or if her grief was loud enough to overcome the concept of sound itself. Because she never screamed, or wailed, or howled, the way some caged animals did. She simply cried, but her tears had weight.
He didn’t hear her all that often. They didn’t bring her down all the often. But when they did, she wept.
Yes, I know, I still owe you all March and January, but I finished April. 8)
The latest month in a year in the life of the Avengers.