Writing frustration

[winter]

I totally should post something Star Wars related, except for the fact that I didn't realise posting my info in imadra_blue's friending meme would lead to people actually friending me. So. Um. Probably not the right moment to mention the fact I haven't touched Star Wars with a ten foot pole in a long while.

Anyway, spent today trying to fic and failing. Current working-on-them-right-now list, just to motivate me tomorrow at work, because apparently I'm unable to write at home; at this rate I'll be able to write something I want to write around... hm, July?

- 3 Tanz der Vampire stories (trials of a vampire father, very twisted Dracula/Krolock and Herbertfic). All for fyrie *expletive deleted*

- Vlad and Gabriel by the fire, for ariss_tenoh, with sincere apologies for the delay

- Coldfire: Family Ties, possible vignettes, for Gerald Tarrant. Peskiest muse ever

- next set of Dooku drabbles for the 1character prompts, and the Dooku-and-Obi-Wan fic, for imadra_blue

- miscellaneous Dooku and non-Dooku fic for the SW people on the f-list because I'm feeling guilty

Oh, and on top of everything else I may be able to combine my obligations towards fyrie, the Coldfire people and the Star Wars people in one fic. But I've a feeling it might get me a wee bit flamed =^.^=

In other news, GIP. *purrs*

EDIT: *headdesk* Completely forgot. fyrie did it again. The next installment of her Buffy/Tanz crossover killed me even deader. Even if you don't know anything about Buffy or Tanz, if you have the slightest fondness for dominant vampires, for Lucifer's sake read this story.

Comments

[winter]

I think she might also appreciate Herbert's car collection ;) And now I'm wondering whether, and where, is the fencing salle in the manor...

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

She wants to teach Herbert Slayer-style fighting :D Poor VK has his head in his hands.



The Slayer stared at him. “But she’s… she’s just a kid,” she mumbled.

“No longer, bella,” Vittorio said softly. “You are hiding your eyes from the truth. It has been many years since Dawn has been a child.” He laced his fingers between hers, watching their hands. “Even without your strength and skill, she has done more than many mortals would dare, more than many of your Slayers have.”

“I keep telling her she doesn’t have to,” Buffy mumbled, squeezing his hand. “I just want her to be safe. I couldn’t stand to lose her. Mom trusted me to look after her.”

Vittorio nodded solemnly. “But how can she ever grow, if you keep her locked in a cage for her whole life?” he asked. “The bars may not be visible, but as long as you keep her by your side, she will feel trapped. She is a strong young woman, bella. She only needs you to trust in her.”

[winter]

You know, I really admire how you write characters whose native language is not English. I can hear the Italian in Vittorio's sentence structure, as I can hear the German in VK's, and to a lesser extent German and French in Herbert's...

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

I think I've spent too many years hanging around multilingual people :D You tend to get used to hearing how people speak and I write accordingly. Especially European types. And having studied 3 languages has helped a bit :)

[winter]

Hm, maybe I should bunny you with a Slavic character of some kind to see if you can imitate my speech patterns too ;)

My French characters in particular sometimes come out with something patently weird in English that they insist is right. Bah, French grammar...

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

*ponders* I could but try, though I could guarantee it would be entirely wonky. I think that's why my own speech patterns are bollixed to hell - I try and talk like too many other places :D

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

Also, ten minutes and I think this scene'll be done...

[winter]

*sigh* Ah well. Who needs sleep anyway?

(BTW, there totally needs to be another scene with everyone in the same room and attempting a civil conversation. Just for the comedy potential of Herbert sabotaging Vittorio's attempts to play peacemaker because he's still pissed about the Buffy as consort thing.)

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

Agreed! Extra scene will be before Buffy and Co. leave - Willow squeaking about the library, Herbert being snarky, Spike awkwardly eyeing everyone and wondering when his next smackdown is due, Dawn sitting next to VK, who is rolling his eyes...

[winter]

Heh. I'm also wondering how Buffy would handle Herbert being touchy-feely with Spike (for no reason except for the fact he's feeling neglected and lonely). Watching her twitch might be amusing ;)

*pats VK* There, dearie, all the nasty guests are leaving soon...

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

Herbert says he'd put on a show to show Vittorio what he's missing :D Which is completely not the point, since Vittorio really isn't a big fan of showiness :D Spike's trying to hide under the table now ;)



Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand scene:
“I do trust her,” Buffy protested weakly.

Her lover lifted his dark eyes to her gravely. “If that is true, then you would not doubt her now,” he said.

“This is different!”

His eyebrow arched. “Because it is vampires?”

“Yes! I… no…” Frowning, Buffy stared at their joined hands. “Kinda, yes.” She admitted in a mumble. “Willow says this guy is way powerful and way strong. I don’t trust him not to hurt Dawnie.”

“Then you must trust your sister,” he murmured, kissing her forehead lightly. “If you do not trust her to protect herself when she has a friend close at hand, then how could you ever trust her in the world beyond your sight?”

Nodding, Buffy’s frown deepened. “Do you think she’ll be okay here?” she asked quietly.

“How can a bird learn to fly, if it is not permitted to spread its wings?” Vittorio asked, stroking his thumb against her knuckles.

“This… Graf-guy…” Hazel eyes rose to him. “You two… you have a history, right?”

One side of Vittorio’s mouth curled up minutely. “I have known him for several centuries,” he murmured. “And I know that is not what you meant, but it is what you need to know.” Buffy blushed, recognising the softly-spoken reprimand. “He is powerful, strong and wise.”

“But still a vampire.”

Vittorio nodded. “But he is honourable and, above all things, a gentleman,” he said. “I do not believe he would harm your sister intentionally any more than Dawn would allow herself to be harmed.”

Chewing on her lower lip, Buffy stared at their fingers. “I guess it’ll only be for a while,” she mumbled reluctantly, leaning into Vittorio’s arms and resting her head on his shoulder. “I mean,” She laughed. “she wouldn’t wanna stay here forever.”

“As you say, bella,” her lover murmured against her temple, never more grateful that she could not see the expression in his eyes. “Who would wish to remain here forever?”

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

P.S. OMG I LOVE VITTORIO!1

[winter]

OMG ME TOO!

...now I want a Vittorio icon. And possibly Vittorio/Buffy and VK/Vittorio ones :D

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

He's addictive! I suspect spins off! That line about the bird and wings? I squeaked when I typed it!

[winter]

If I end up writing about him pining after VK, that'll be totally your fault.

Unless, you know, you write it first.

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

Rearrange this sentence: Out brain of my get :P

[winter]

Only if I'm allowed to hand over the custody of the bunnies to you :P

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

You sure you don't want to foster? :P

[winter]

I cannot assure proper living conditions. My plotbunny cages are the definition of overcrowding :P

(Night!)

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

And alas, now, I flee to bed, chased by said wretched bunnies...

For when you get back: first scene of Herbertfic take two

[winter]

(I need a Herbert icon very, very much. You wouldn't mind telling me where you found that picture in yours?)


Autumn of the Year of Our Lord 1638, Vienna, Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation


The night air already carried the autumn chill, but the ground of the courtyard was still more dust than mud. Kinga was grateful for it as she carried the pail of dishwater to the gutter. Less cleaning to do, especially now that most student lodgers were spending the night outside the city gates at one of the last revelries before the cold chased them back to the wineries and cellars close enough for the boys to drag themselves home once they were kicked out. They would wake her then to open the gate for them, but tonight they’d rather sleep under the stars than chance the long trek.

All except one, she thought. Just one window with the faint light of a candle she’d lit for him before dusk fell. She would have to go there and light another before she went to sleep; otherwise he’d wake and open his wound again trying to do it himself.

Kinga shivered. It was really getting cold at night.

She heard hoof beats, a sharp staccato over the cobblestones. She wondered who it could be, now that midnight had passed. A courier, perhaps, carrying mail from the outer reaches of the empire. She had sent a letter to the boy’s home when he had first been brought to her lodging house, but she doubted he would live to read the answer.

The horse came around the corner at near gallop, pulled back by the rider just as it was about to ride her down. It was a great bay with a dark coat that was almost black in the moonlight. She stepped back towards the gate of the house, out of the reach of its hooves.

Of the rider, all she saw was a swirl of a dark cloak as he dismounted. “Which of these houses belongs to Kunegunde Tiedeman?” he demanded sharply.

Transylvanian accent, flickered through her mind.

“That would be me,” she said, drawing her tiredness and indignation around her. She hadn’t been running a lodging house for unruly students for twenty years without gathering some force of her own. “And I’m not accepting visitors this late.”

The stranger grew still. She had the feeling he was watching her, though his face was in shadow.

“Forgive me, Frau Tiedeman,” he said. “I did not expect the matron of a lodging house to be out on the street so late at night.”

“Usually, I’m not,” she scoffed. She headed back inside the courtyard, heard him following, leading the horse. He seemed to have manners, at least. “I gave the girls the night off – there is a feast outside the gates tonight. I would go myself, but care of the sick comes first.”

“Care of the sick?” There was hesitation in that voice, as if he wanted to say something more.

He really had a remarkable voice, Kinga thought. Deep and melodious, and she was sure the accent reminded her of somebody.

She sighed. “It’s such a sad story. Students duelling – I don’t know why they don’t just settle it with a brawl like normal people. And the boy won’t tell anyone who the other man was, so all I know is that his friends found him in Buchenwäldchen Grove and brought him here. The doctors had hope at first, but now...”

“Now?” he whispered.

“He is dying. One day, maybe two.” Kinga shrugged. “It happens. I’ve done my best.”

For a moment, the courtyard was silent enough that she could hear her own breathing. Then the horse snorted.

“I’m sure you did, Frau Tiedeman,” the stranger said. “Thank you. And thank you for sending the letter.”

She startled. The letter? But it should have barely reached the border of Transylvania by now-

The man dropped his horse’s reins on the ground, as if he were sure the animal would not move without command, and stepped into the pool of light falling from the attic window.

He wore black in the Spanish style, restrained and unembroidered. His hair fell down to his shoulders, straight and thick and dark. His face was pale, but it wasn’t only the paleness that brought such resemblance to the boy.

His eyes were dark as night

“I am Graf Johannes von Krolock,” he said, bowing to her as if she were a princess of the blood, not a simple Viennese bürgerin. “Herbert is my son.”

[winter]

Hee! At both Herbert and Vittorio. In the latter case, do I sense nostalgia of someone (gently) dumped a few centuries ago? :D

Also, he's got a good way of putting the fact that VK's got a fetish for willing victims. Go Vittorio.

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

I need to write backstory now. Buggrit.

[winter]

Just remember you still have Spike's first visit to finish ~_~

(I'm also wondering whether VK ever took it further with Spike during these early visits, or whether it's a post-What Remains thing exclusively...)

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

Post-What Remains only. Herbert took the reins of William ;) VK had too much to deal with keeping tabs on Dru, Darla and Angelus :D