I'm serafina_zane and I'm extremely classy.

Long time, no see, Livejournal! Or actually there is seeing, because I still read my friends-list, I just don't post... So anyway, there was a merry_fates prompt competition and I was procrastinating so intensely I couldn't resist.

This is your brain around the 87,000th word of a 65,000 word novel you've been working on for over two years and are really, honestly about to finish. Alternately: 'I couldn't write traditional medieval high fantasy if I tried'. Or 'my brain works in strange ways, part eight million'.



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I really did not intend to write that in six hours...

And this would be the promised merry_fates contest post. Written for this prompt:


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Hey, look, it's merry_fates prompt time again. In which I answer the timeless question "What do you get when you combine this, the prompt, with this song obnoxiously in your head all day, a half-overheard episode Ugly Betty during Chemistry test studying, and art room loitering, also known as my life?"

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An incredibly important question. (And my first poll, that's a plus account... plus.) Because I am now submitting to the Wisdom of the Crowd a question I've been pondering for the better part of a month.


Feel free to discuss the rationale behind your choice in the comments. In fact, please do.

(ETA: non-Livejournal users feel free to place a vote in the comments too, I want to know the opinions of the WORLD. But, umm, no, that does not apply to myrrhcat and rach_ciav attempting to sway my results.)

So. merry_fates monthly prompt time. Writing completely unrelated things while on a deadline for something is one of my favorite things to do, so here you go. Short and unrevised and completely random, because I felt like writing about zombies. And doing some male POV
In other news, it's....still NaNo.

So,merry_fates is having a Halloween contest, and here's my entry, finally. Jury is still out on whether or not it fails epic, but it was kind of fun to write. Except when it really, really wasn't. Enjoy anyway, if you want.

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Ives throws his bag of popcorn down in disgust, the Sharpies on his belt jingling. “You win.”

            Ash smiles sweetly as somebody else is murdered onscreen. “I am the king, Art Boy. The king.”

We’re midway through Ives and Ash’s annual Halloween competition for Lamest Horror Movie Ever. Ives’ entry Werewolves of Woodstock had been respectable, but it was no match for the eye-scorching lameness that was Thirteen Letters. 

The doorbell rings and I grudgingly get up, kicking cats off my lap and I grabbing the half-empty bowl of Snickers bars.

Answering the door was my responsibility, obviously, because it was my house. For some reason we always hung out at my place, even though the couches were lumpy and the TV was staticky and the porch wasn’t heated and the cats hated nearly everyone except me.

All three of the little boys at the door were about five, and all three were dressed as Spider-Man.

“What are you?” one of them asks as I hand out the candy.

I glance down and up again, from ballerina flats to skinny jeans to ratty grey sweater to t-shirt. None of us were in costume, Ash having ditched her “ironic” cardboard box and foil robot costume a couple hours earlier due to her inability to sit down in it.

“I’m the girl with the candy,” I say, dropping some into his pillowcase.

 

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So, as I've mentioned before,merry_fates is kind of awesome, and they do monthly watcher prompts. I posted one before, and so, umm, here's another, much, much shorter than that other one. Sorry if it sucks, only reread it as I was typing it up, and I'm ill/in school/writing climax.

And that's kind of all I got. Yep. Given up reading to make my deadline, watching movies with friends tonight, it's a cold and rainy weekend (yay!) and I'm coughing every two seconds.

So the merry_fates is this community that post discussions and some fawesome short fiction, and sometimes watcher prompts. The latest one was a dictionary definition, so here's my story, which is sort of longer than I expected it to be. *shrug* Hey, it's just *under* 2,000 words. If only just barely.  

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