(no subject)
So I realized today that I've been working on my super-sekkrit Tri-Leaders story since July of 2009. I'm about, oh, half done. So here's an excerpt for you!
Ann detached the dinging box and dropped it. Stan scrambled to catch it before it hit the floor.
“Get that into containment,” she said. “And then initiate the Omega Protocol.”
Stan cocked his head quizzically.
“No, not OMEGA,” Ann said. “Title case, not full caps. And I’m well aware he’s dead. Although, the way tonight is going…”
Stan chittered far more than was his habit.
“Fine, you have an hour,” Ann said. “But if you’re not at the shuttle bay after that, you’ll be sucking vacuum.”
Stan scampered away without a backwards glance. It wasn’t often that his mistress granted him such a boon, and he was going to make full use of every one of those sixty minutes.
As for Ann, she stalked the corridors, ready to shoot any ghostly figures that crossed her path. Despite the jumping readings on her EVP, no apparitions appeared. The base was clear. She checked the shuttle bay, then checked again. No weird readings on her EVP, no strange cold spots in the middle of the room, nothing. She ran a diagnostic of the shuttle, just to be safe. Totally clean.
Ann had packed the shuttle earlier that day, in preparation for her trip down to Earth for Roses’ birthday. She’d just surprise her a day early. She stashed away some more stuff she’d picked up in her circuit around the base. Sentimental things, mostly. Some photos, her cookbooks, her cuddly llamablob.
“Attention, please,” Ann said over the intercom. Her voice echoed throughout the base. “The shuttle will be taking off in five minutes. Any ferrets who are not on will be out of luck.”
Stan ran into the shuttle bay, dragging a box bigger than himself. Ann watched him try to haul it up the shuttle stairs. He looked at her, pleading.
“If you can’t carry it, you shouldn’t have brought it,” she said.
Stan held out his little paws in supplication. If only she helped him this one time, he would do anything she asked, anything, without the barest whisper of a complaint.
“Anything?” Ann raised an eyebrow.
Stan paused, considering just how far his mistress could stretch “anything.” Finally, he nodded mournfully.
“Eeeeeexcellent,” she said, steepling her hands in front of her face.
Ann easily picked up the box. It squeaked at her.
“How many did you bring?”
Stan shrugged, looking sheepish.
Ann tore open the box. Three of her lab animals, Brittany, Eleanor, and Jeanette, cowered in the corner furthest from her.
“You’re a freak, you know that?”
Stan only shrugged, following Ann up the stairs.
“You’re not even the same species.” She strapped the box down tight.
Stan took a seat next to his precious box. Ann entered the cockpit alone. She strapped herself in to the pilot’s seat. A few pre-flight checks, and they blasted off! Away from her moonbase, away from that pesky narrator, and back to Earth.
***
My plan is to have it done by this summer, but who knows how well that'll work out.
I'm making potato soup tomorrow, because I realized that, though the potato button on my microwave is indeed the most magical button ever created, I cannot eat 10 pounds of baked potatoes. And it's been snowing all day, which is perfect soup weather. I'm also making sweet potato soup tomorrow, which I've never made before. Mostly because I don't like sweet potatoes. I'll eat them if I have to, but the sweetness is off-putting. The rest of my family will like it.
Ann detached the dinging box and dropped it. Stan scrambled to catch it before it hit the floor.
“Get that into containment,” she said. “And then initiate the Omega Protocol.”
Stan cocked his head quizzically.
“No, not OMEGA,” Ann said. “Title case, not full caps. And I’m well aware he’s dead. Although, the way tonight is going…”
Stan chittered far more than was his habit.
“Fine, you have an hour,” Ann said. “But if you’re not at the shuttle bay after that, you’ll be sucking vacuum.”
Stan scampered away without a backwards glance. It wasn’t often that his mistress granted him such a boon, and he was going to make full use of every one of those sixty minutes.
As for Ann, she stalked the corridors, ready to shoot any ghostly figures that crossed her path. Despite the jumping readings on her EVP, no apparitions appeared. The base was clear. She checked the shuttle bay, then checked again. No weird readings on her EVP, no strange cold spots in the middle of the room, nothing. She ran a diagnostic of the shuttle, just to be safe. Totally clean.
Ann had packed the shuttle earlier that day, in preparation for her trip down to Earth for Roses’ birthday. She’d just surprise her a day early. She stashed away some more stuff she’d picked up in her circuit around the base. Sentimental things, mostly. Some photos, her cookbooks, her cuddly llamablob.
“Attention, please,” Ann said over the intercom. Her voice echoed throughout the base. “The shuttle will be taking off in five minutes. Any ferrets who are not on will be out of luck.”
Stan ran into the shuttle bay, dragging a box bigger than himself. Ann watched him try to haul it up the shuttle stairs. He looked at her, pleading.
“If you can’t carry it, you shouldn’t have brought it,” she said.
Stan held out his little paws in supplication. If only she helped him this one time, he would do anything she asked, anything, without the barest whisper of a complaint.
“Anything?” Ann raised an eyebrow.
Stan paused, considering just how far his mistress could stretch “anything.” Finally, he nodded mournfully.
“Eeeeeexcellent,” she said, steepling her hands in front of her face.
Ann easily picked up the box. It squeaked at her.
“How many did you bring?”
Stan shrugged, looking sheepish.
Ann tore open the box. Three of her lab animals, Brittany, Eleanor, and Jeanette, cowered in the corner furthest from her.
“You’re a freak, you know that?”
Stan only shrugged, following Ann up the stairs.
“You’re not even the same species.” She strapped the box down tight.
Stan took a seat next to his precious box. Ann entered the cockpit alone. She strapped herself in to the pilot’s seat. A few pre-flight checks, and they blasted off! Away from her moonbase, away from that pesky narrator, and back to Earth.
***
My plan is to have it done by this summer, but who knows how well that'll work out.
I'm making potato soup tomorrow, because I realized that, though the potato button on my microwave is indeed the most magical button ever created, I cannot eat 10 pounds of baked potatoes. And it's been snowing all day, which is perfect soup weather. I'm also making sweet potato soup tomorrow, which I've never made before. Mostly because I don't like sweet potatoes. I'll eat them if I have to, but the sweetness is off-putting. The rest of my family will like it.