Liliaeth (liliaeth) wrote,

  • Mood:
  • Music:
I'm feeling a bit sick, headache, throat feels like it's stuffed full, had to throw up this morning (it's what woke me up) and a basically feeling of wrongness behind my eyes.
Normally not something to bother anyone with, if not for the fact that I'm already a week late for my sandwich ficathon fic.

Damn thing's over half, so it's not like I'm not working on it, but I really feel like I'm letting down my requestee by taking this long over it. (not to mention that I really have to get startedon my schmangstaton fic)

Here's a little snippet of proof that I am writing, really ...

"Drusilla dear, what would you say of having a new pet in the house, maybe more than one."

Drusilla clapped her hands and squeed exitedly, already thinking up names.

"We could go on a long hunt, rent a hunting cabin in the woods. Imagine the dogs driving forward the prey, exhausting and terrifying it till all we have to do is take our pick."
Darla didn't seem convinced. "Just imagine it, a pack of dogs, every last one of them trained to smell a human from miles away. I could have some human beat them up, let them know who to hate. And then when they're ready we'll have a hunting party, get as far away from civilisation and hunt down our ... guests."

It was obvious that Darla didn't mind that idea one bit.

"Lords in their petticoats, ladies in their corsets and long dresses...all running for their lives."

"We'd have to be careful though, can't just pick any straggler of the streets, people would start to notice."

"Am I ever not careful." He was leaning up to her, whispering in her ear. Darla might let him pretend he was in charge, but anyone in the room, except maybe the forgotten half dead boy, knew exactly who really was.
"William take out the trash. We've got arrangements to make."

Think anyone'd want more of that one?

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded