The dead dogs of nowhere

Well, in an effort to gear up for yuletide, I'm going to copycat circe_tigana and do a word of the day drabble. My word comes from A.Word.A.Day. I may not do this every day, but I'm going to try, because I'm seriously rusty and I haven't written a good word since Tigannie*con. (So I'll use my T*C icon for luck)

macedoine (mas-i-DWAN) noun

1. A mixture of diced fruits or vegetables, often served as salad, appetizer, or dessert.

2. A medley or mixture.

[From French macédoine, from Macédoine (Macedonia), apparently an allusion to the diversity of people in the region.]

Outside the window, the palm trees gust in a high wind. It is going on dusk and the whores are preparing to go in for the night. Jack can spot, on the same street corner, a Dutchman, a Swede or Norwegian, four ex-slaves, and a woman of very questionable virtue. She is taking barter from them: the blond Scandinavian waves a wad of cash in her direction and, smiling, she angles her head toward the house where they will do business. Tortuga is a macedoine.

The slow heat of the kitchens bleeds out into the inn's common room: the slow heat from outside is cooled by the wind. Jack picks at his bread and stew, eyeing his beer glass, which is half-full (or half-empty, depending). Gibbs plumps himself down in the seat across the table, sloshing a yellow concoction out of his glass and over his hand.

"Why the hell do you drink that, mate?" asks Jack idly.

"What, this?" Gibbs looks offended. "Egg nog is a good English tradition around Christmas tide."

"That's barely egg nog."

"Well ... " Gibbs smiles sheepishly. "It's more nog than egg, and mostly rum at that. But it reminds me of home."

"Gibbs, you haven't been in England since you were transported, what -- "

"Twenty years at least. Or more. But on a December evenin', can you not hear the wind blow through the house chimneys? Or smell the snow as it falls for the first time?"

Jack suppresses a twinge, thinking of a place he will not ever see again. "All I smell is how drunk you are."

"Merry Christmas, lad," Gibbs says placidly and downs the nog in one go. "I'll have another."

Good thing you don't read fanfic, gypped, cause this would freak your shit up.


Title: Mad Love (the Mountie Dreams remix)
Author: Zara Hemla (shutupmulder@yahoo.com)
Site: http://if.lightquencher.net/
Fandom: Due South
Rating: R
Summary: Kowalski and Fraser have a deja vu moment.
Remixes EA Karras's Mad Love, with some "Mad World" thrown in for good measure.

( It's a nice change from that red jacket which always covers up his ass. Which I only mention because he has a really nice one. )

After watching Horatio Hornblower (backwards), I present the following:

Title: Kingston Harbour
Author: Zara Hemla (shutupmulder@yahoo.com)
Site: http://if.lightquencher.net/
Rating: PG
Fandom: Horatio Hornblower (miniseries)
Summary: Set right after the events of "Mutiny" and "Retribution." Horatio teaches William to swim.

( 'Mr. Bush!' he shouts. 'It's only a little water! You couldn't fill a teacup with this!' )

For karabou: A Talisman ficlet. I don't know how good it is, I just wrote it superfast, but it's all yours.

( After the Territories, even hot Swedish girls have lost some appeal, but Jack expects he can make do. )

Here we gooooo... the Norrington ficathon assignment. It's for circe_tigana, who wanted Jack/James/Elizabeth but with no sex (thank goodness). I apologize most mightily to you, Circe, if this isn't what you wanted, but oh, if you only knew how many times I rewrote it, you would forgive me.

(thanks also to silveraspen for the read-through)

title: the strangest moving patterns
author: zara hemla (shutupmulder@yahoo.com)
site: http://if.lightquencher.net/
rating: pg-13
fandom: pirates of the caribbean
summary: one year later, a meeting.

( this regret, this shallow scrape, he can keep )

I'm posting this now. I mean, I'm mindful of prillalar's rules about how to get more feedback, but come on. It's The Scar fic. No one is going to read this. Nevertheless, since I feel it's pretty damn good work and I spent a bit of time on it, I shall post it up anyway and be damned to it. Dammit.

Title: Not Enough, Never Enough
Author: Zara Hemla (shutupmulder@yahoo.com)
Site: http://if.lightquencher.net/
Rating: R
Fandom: The Scar (Info at Runagate Rampant)
Pairing: Uther Doul / the Brucolac
Summary: Come to discuss politics, but leave peaceful.

( And he knows that Doul knows it, and the smile is just to drive Doul bugshit, and Doul knows that too, but it's still working. )

And now onto writing something for The Hire. Freakin' winter_baby and her freakin' new obsessions. ::grumble grumble::

For mosca and anyone else who liked it, I present:

Fitter Happier More Productive: Now with commentary!. I hope it makes sense.

Boy, that takes it out of you. I need some chocolate. :)

In case you need to get into the Christmas spirit: here's a little ditty I wrote for vaznetti's Secret Sarkfic Santa. It's Weiss/Sark with some Weiss/Syd lust. I wrote it for celli.

( velvet drawstring pants )

Well, the Free Verse Challenge has gone live, and so I'll post up my story for it. Before I do, I'll recommend Hammer and Tongs by prillalar. Sure, it's Eomer/Eowyn, and I so so so so so so am not into that. But as always, Hal is the exception.

Anyway. Onwards!

Title: Floating in the floating city
Author: Zara Hemla (shutupmulder@yahoo.com)
Site: if.lightquencher.net
Fandom: Spirited Away
Rating: G
Summary: Before, during, and after.

( there is always at least a sound )

All right ... welcome to the twisted theatre that is my life, where my brain holds me in thrall and says, "You WILL write this. And not only that, but you will write it my way, and if you don't, then I will force you to think about it and rethink it for a week. You might as well just give in now."

Also known as: Bright/Sark. Am I the only one on this bandwagon? You betcha. But if you want to read something that's too long for a drabble, not sexy enough for a PWP, but is a strange mix of fast car love and pretty boy sex angst? Hi. Nice to see you. Drop in.

( The bright altar of the dashboard. Rated R. Everwood/Alias. Slash. Yeah, I said slash. )