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Nov. 15th, 2018 12:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cornerofmadnessFan fic is in my dreams. Soooooo Buffy people, I need some good things Darla could have been into that won't make her son shudder to know about it.
Speaking of knowing things, I haven't seen Origins in forever. Does anyone remember when the Orlon Window broke, did just Connor remember who he is or did EVERYONE remember who he was?
Another snippet for you
“What’s going on?” Zvon watched Arria draw the blinds on two of the three windows.
“Something’s moving out there. It’s barely getting dark. That’s bold.” She peered out the window.
“What? What’s out there?” Zvon’s voice squeaked. “I don’t understand what’s got you jumpy.”
Before Arria could answer, something struck the window. A distorted face, pale as any Zvon had helped his father rip from their graves, pressed against the glass, glowing in the gathering darkness. Flaccid lips worked, sliming the pane. Something like a tentacle instead of a tongue knocked against the window. Arria waved her hand, a strange light flared just as Zvon jumped to his feet grabbing her.
He pulled her into the bunk’s bay, plowing into the thin mattress. He dumped Arria onto the bed and yanked the curtain shut. Zvon had no idea what a piece of fabric could do against that thing. Arria tugged him down onto the bed.
“I warded the windows,” She said. “We’re safe.”
Tell it to his thundering heart. “What the hell was that thing?”
Arria sucked on her bottom lip. “I think it’s a low-level demon.”
22648 / 50000 words. 45% done!
Speaking of knowing things, I haven't seen Origins in forever. Does anyone remember when the Orlon Window broke, did just Connor remember who he is or did EVERYONE remember who he was?
Another snippet for you
“What’s going on?” Zvon watched Arria draw the blinds on two of the three windows.
“Something’s moving out there. It’s barely getting dark. That’s bold.” She peered out the window.
“What? What’s out there?” Zvon’s voice squeaked. “I don’t understand what’s got you jumpy.”
Before Arria could answer, something struck the window. A distorted face, pale as any Zvon had helped his father rip from their graves, pressed against the glass, glowing in the gathering darkness. Flaccid lips worked, sliming the pane. Something like a tentacle instead of a tongue knocked against the window. Arria waved her hand, a strange light flared just as Zvon jumped to his feet grabbing her.
He pulled her into the bunk’s bay, plowing into the thin mattress. He dumped Arria onto the bed and yanked the curtain shut. Zvon had no idea what a piece of fabric could do against that thing. Arria tugged him down onto the bed.
“I warded the windows,” She said. “We’re safe.”
Tell it to his thundering heart. “What the hell was that thing?”
Arria sucked on her bottom lip. “I think it’s a low-level demon.”
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