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Jun. 19th, 2004 08:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
doyleStolen from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
girlfromsouth:
Give me 1000 comments in this entry. Or whatever, really. YOU, in particular, don't have to supply the whole 1000, but a tiny contribution would be nice. Then let me know if you post this in your journal and I'll return the favor.
Dudes, so this is your chance to spam me with anything! Pictures, lyrics, the word SPAM over and over. Feel free to tell me something about yourself, or screen your comments. Do whatever you want! It's all up to you.
Okay, so I realise 1000 is a tall number so just spam away and we'll see where we get up to. Please entertain me!
Entertain me while I tackle inability to make words come out right and try to get some of these ficathon entries done... You could tell me what strange pairings you're into, since I've been thinking lots about unconventional shipping today. Or anything. Go on.
Also contemplating a game of tag where the first person writes a drabble - 100 words or less - with a pairing and a word or requirement at the end, and the next person writes that one. Might try to instigate a game of that later tonight if the ficathoning goes badly.
ETA: Okay, the drabble tag's here, come and play.
girlfromsouth:Give me 1000 comments in this entry. Or whatever, really. YOU, in particular, don't have to supply the whole 1000, but a tiny contribution would be nice. Then let me know if you post this in your journal and I'll return the favor.
Dudes, so this is your chance to spam me with anything! Pictures, lyrics, the word SPAM over and over. Feel free to tell me something about yourself, or screen your comments. Do whatever you want! It's all up to you.
Okay, so I realise 1000 is a tall number so just spam away and we'll see where we get up to. Please entertain me!
Entertain me while I tackle inability to make words come out right and try to get some of these ficathon entries done... You could tell me what strange pairings you're into, since I've been thinking lots about unconventional shipping today. Or anything. Go on.
Also contemplating a game of tag where the first person writes a drabble - 100 words or less - with a pairing and a word or requirement at the end, and the next person writes that one. Might try to instigate a game of that later tonight if the ficathoning goes badly.
ETA: Okay, the drabble tag's here, come and play.
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Re: drunken late night drabbling, apologies
on 2004-06-19 05:51 pm (UTC)Re: drunken late night drabbling, apologies
on 2004-06-19 05:55 pm (UTC)*ping*
‘Yes, Wesley?’
‘Ah, Angel. If you could just come into my office for a moment.’
Mental note: souled vampire who is seeking redemption for long past and more recent sins generally does not attempt to kill his boss.
Wesley hands him a pile of letters and smiles condescendingly. He’s loving every moment of this, the self-righteous bastard…
‘If you’d mind sorting these out for posting, and then make sure our lunch order is delivered.’
Wesley nods encouragingly and Angel takes the letters from the desk and slouches out the door.
*ping*
The little bell tinkles again.
‘And perhaps a cup of tea?’
No, it’s no good. He’s going to kill Wesley.
Re: drunken late night drabbling, apologies
on 2004-06-19 06:10 pm (UTC)“Got to try out my new hands, don’t I?” Spike bounces around the room, clenching and shaking his hands, a grin of delight casting an impish glow on his face.
“Do we even have a ping pong table?” Angel makes for his phone, if anybody would know, it would be Harmony.
“’Course you do, idiot. Got everything here, don’t you?” He stands at the door, rocking on the balls of his feet.
“Alright, two out of three?” Angel can’t believe he just gave in.
*ping*
Re: drunken late night drabbling, apologies
on 2004-06-19 08:20 pm (UTC)Every night he dreamed of the sky at night, stars shining more distinctly than he had ever seen them before, winking in and out of existence with the swaying of the tree branches arching overhead, and every night the branches twisted into cold, angry fingers that closed about his throat as the stars fell down and burned his face.
And for a moment or two every night, when he woke up gasping hoarsely, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears telling him he couldn't be dead, he felt cheated.