Monday, March 30, 2020
Camp Wrimo 2020
Well, I am starting to get excited about starting up Wrimo again. I've been checking back and getting organized. I still don't know precisely what I'm going to be working on. It might just be some random stuff that I haven't touched in a while that people were really into. That might be for the best because if I start something new, I might lead a revolt against my writing self. I was looking at some stuff that hasn't been updated in over 5 years. It's kind of scary. So here's to psyching myself up to get back into the saddle!
Saturday, March 28, 2020
Making A Comeback!!
Hell again!
...listens to crickets chirping...
Of course, it's always felt like that around here. Not that I mind. I just wanted to get it out there that I have not forgotten about my writing, or my blogging.
I just have focused more on other things.
Like my family, with new added members.
Yay!
I won't be posting pictures of the grandbaby, but the itty-bitty one does exist. So exciting.
Anyhow, I am going to be updating some more of the fiction chapters that I have ready to go and working on the fictions that people having been waiting on, dedicated to...
Which is WAAAAAYYYY more that I deserve.
See you readers soon!
...listens to crickets chirping...
Of course, it's always felt like that around here. Not that I mind. I just wanted to get it out there that I have not forgotten about my writing, or my blogging.
I just have focused more on other things.
Like my family, with new added members.
Yay!
I won't be posting pictures of the grandbaby, but the itty-bitty one does exist. So exciting.
Anyhow, I am going to be updating some more of the fiction chapters that I have ready to go and working on the fictions that people having been waiting on, dedicated to...
Which is WAAAAAYYYY more that I deserve.
See you readers soon!
Saturday, April 9, 2016
Dream Within- Main Page
Title: Dream Within
Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: All characters within this fiction are the property of Cameron/ Eglee. I just like to play with them.
Timeline: Six weeks after FN.
Pairing M/A
Summary: An unexpected accident causes Max to think about the future in a new way.
Chapter One- What Do I Know Of Love?
Chapter Two- What I'd Give For Love
Chapter Three- Who The Hell's Life DId I Wake Up In?
Chapter Four- What I Know Could FIt In A Coffee Mug
Chapter FIve- We Almost Took A Wrong Turn
Chapter Six- The Quickest Path Is A Straight Line
Chapter Seven- The Freedom Of Truth
Chapter Eight- A Picture's Worth
Chapter Nine- Little Moments Bring Big Realizations
Chapter Ten- Among Friends
Chapter Eleven- Dealing With The Norm
Chapter Twelve- The Pretence Of Protection
Chapter Thirteen- The Price Of Lies
Chapter Fourteen- Laying It All Out
Chapter Fifteen- Delving Deeper
Chapter Sixteen- Wasting Time Asking Why
Chapter Seventeen- The Simple Pleasures
Chapter Eighteen- Deepening Emotion
Chapter Nineteen- Memory In Blue
Chapter Twenty- Healing The Bond
Chapter Twenty-one- Bright Lights, Utter Geniuses
Chapter Twenty-two- Whose Truth Is It Now?
Chapter Twenty-three- A Little Something To Tell Ya
Chapter Twenty-four- Let The Past Be The Past
Chapter Twenty-five- When Emotion Takes Over Everything
Chapter Twenty-six- Starting Again
Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: All characters within this fiction are the property of Cameron/ Eglee. I just like to play with them.
Timeline: Six weeks after FN.
Pairing M/A
Summary: An unexpected accident causes Max to think about the future in a new way.
Chapter One- What Do I Know Of Love?
Chapter Two- What I'd Give For Love
Chapter Three- Who The Hell's Life DId I Wake Up In?
Chapter Four- What I Know Could FIt In A Coffee Mug
Chapter FIve- We Almost Took A Wrong Turn
Chapter Six- The Quickest Path Is A Straight Line
Chapter Seven- The Freedom Of Truth
Chapter Eight- A Picture's Worth
Chapter Nine- Little Moments Bring Big Realizations
Chapter Ten- Among Friends
Chapter Eleven- Dealing With The Norm
Chapter Twelve- The Pretence Of Protection
Chapter Thirteen- The Price Of Lies
Chapter Fourteen- Laying It All Out
Chapter Fifteen- Delving Deeper
Chapter Sixteen- Wasting Time Asking Why
Chapter Seventeen- The Simple Pleasures
Chapter Eighteen- Deepening Emotion
Chapter Nineteen- Memory In Blue
Chapter Twenty- Healing The Bond
Chapter Twenty-one- Bright Lights, Utter Geniuses
Chapter Twenty-two- Whose Truth Is It Now?
Chapter Twenty-three- A Little Something To Tell Ya
Chapter Twenty-four- Let The Past Be The Past
Chapter Twenty-five- When Emotion Takes Over Everything
Chapter Twenty-six- Starting Again
Darkening of the Light- Main Page
Title: Darkening Of
The Light
Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
Disclaimer: The characters and fictional placings of either of these shows do not belong to me. They belong to Cameron/ Eglee (Dark Angel), Joss Whedon (BtVS) and Whedon/ Greenwalt (AtS). Only the story belongs to me.
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Genre: Crossover of DA/ BtVS
Type: WiP
Timeline/ Spoilers: Post Season 5 for Buffy. Up to LAtR for DA. Story set in DA time.
Summary: Life brings about so many changes. Especially when one has just risen from the dead.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
Disclaimer: The characters and fictional placings of either of these shows do not belong to me. They belong to Cameron/ Eglee (Dark Angel), Joss Whedon (BtVS) and Whedon/ Greenwalt (AtS). Only the story belongs to me.
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Genre: Crossover of DA/ BtVS
Type: WiP
Timeline/ Spoilers: Post Season 5 for Buffy. Up to LAtR for DA. Story set in DA time.
Summary: Life brings about so many changes. Especially when one has just risen from the dead.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Baby Doll- Main Page
Title: Baby Doll
Author Restive Nature
Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.
Rating: PG-15
Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"
Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.
Prologue
Chapter One- Merry Christmas, Angel
Chapter Two- The Gift
Chapter Three- New York, New York
Chapter Four- Girls Night Out
Chapter Five- Miss Edith Needs Her Tea
Chapter Six- A New Doll
Chapter Seven- Delivery Man
Chapter Eight- Tarot Cards
Chapter Nine- Damaged
Chapter Ten- Recovery
Chapter Eleven- Memory
Chapter Twelve- Party
Chapter Thirteen- Oh Daddy, My Daddy
Chapter Fourteen- Who The Hell Is This?
Chapter Fifteen- Chocolate Lovers Only
Chapter Sixteen- Patience
Chapter Seventeen- Surprise
Chapter Eighteen- Dolls On Parade
Chapter Nineteen- Demon Forth
Chapter Twenty- Imminent Unrescue
Chapter Twenty-one- Only Dreams
Chapter Twenty-two- Pumpkin Patch
Chapter Twenty-three- Good To See You Too
Chapter Twenty-four- Merry Christmas, Again
Author Restive Nature
Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.
Rating: PG-15
Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"
Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.
Prologue
Chapter One- Merry Christmas, Angel
Chapter Two- The Gift
Chapter Three- New York, New York
Chapter Four- Girls Night Out
Chapter Five- Miss Edith Needs Her Tea
Chapter Six- A New Doll
Chapter Seven- Delivery Man
Chapter Eight- Tarot Cards
Chapter Nine- Damaged
Chapter Ten- Recovery
Chapter Eleven- Memory
Chapter Twelve- Party
Chapter Thirteen- Oh Daddy, My Daddy
Chapter Fourteen- Who The Hell Is This?
Chapter Fifteen- Chocolate Lovers Only
Chapter Sixteen- Patience
Chapter Seventeen- Surprise
Chapter Eighteen- Dolls On Parade
Chapter Nineteen- Demon Forth
Chapter Twenty- Imminent Unrescue
Chapter Twenty-one- Only Dreams
Chapter Twenty-two- Pumpkin Patch
Chapter Twenty-three- Good To See You Too
Chapter Twenty-four- Merry Christmas, Again
Friday, April 8, 2016
Doing Some Updates
Hello again. Too long since last I posted, but at least not as long as the last dry spell. I've been busy with school finishing up and while I don't really have a lot of time on my hands, since I'll be working again, I find that this blog is still on my mind. Kind of a sanity saver still. So while I haven't updated any stories, except for another chapter of Memory in Motion, I did take some time to start changing the layout on the links. Slowly I will get it completed. Previously clicking on a section in the header of the page took you to a listing of the stories that fell under that category. The links there would take you to the first chapter of that story. Now, the links there will take a reader to a list of all the chapters that are available. Just another way to access things, which I hope will work out well.
Happy reading whoever is out there!!!
Happy reading whoever is out there!!!
Approaching Normal- Main Page
Title:
Approaching Normal
Disclaimer:
I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned
respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No
infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private
enjoyment only.
Rating:
PG-13
Genre:
Crossover
Type:
Friendship/ Romance
Pairing:
Buffy/ Sam Winchester
Summary:
At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they
always wanted.
Spoilers/
Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for
Supernatural.
Feedback:
Always welcome!
Distribution:
Ask first please.
A/N:
This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting
The Hellmouth site.
All That Heaven Will Allow- Main Page
Title:
All That Heaven Will Allow
Disclaimer:
I do not own the rights to BtVS. They belong to Whedon & Mutant
Enemy. I also do not own the rights to Charmed. They belong to the
WB. No infringement is intended and this fiction is for private
enjoyment only.
Rating:
PG-13
Genre:
Crossover
Type:
Angst, Action, Humor
Pairing:
canon pairings in both shows
Summary:
Slayer dreams and Whitelighter-Witch hybrid powers collide when the
veil between worlds come close to collapsing. Can baby Wyatt survive
life on the Hellmouth?
Spoilers/
Time line: Season 4 (after “Harsh Light Of Day”) of Buffy and
Season 6 (after “Forget Me... Not”) Of Charmed.
Feedback:
Always welcome!
Distribution:
Ask first please.
A/N:
This was one of my contributions started for NaNoWriMo 2012. The
story was by no means completed in that month and I am looking
forward to continuing it.
A/N2:
There is a definite time difference between these two worlds and the
seasons that I am using. This will hopefully, be explained within the
fiction itself.
Accidental Pen Pals- Main Page
Title:
Accidental Pen Pals
Disclaimer:
I do not own the rights to BtVS or Dark Angel. They belong
respectively to Whedon & Mutant Enemy and to Cameron/ Eglee. No
infringement is intended and this fiction is for private enjoyment
only.
Rating:
PG-13
Genre:
Crossover
Type:
Friendship/ Humor
Pairing:
Dawn/ Joshua (as friends)
Summary:
All she asked for was a little help on a school project... but this
IS Dawn we're talking about here.
Spoilers/
Time line: This is Season 7 for BtVS and Season 2 for Dark Angel. But
things have been skewed for BtVS so that the show fits into the Dark
Angel format of Post-Pulse. The airings of the episodes for each will
not quite match up. In BtVS, it is after the first few episodes and
Willow has returned. In Dark Angel, it is several episodes in and
Joshua has been living in Sandeman's house for some time and has been
painting, but has not met Annie at all.
Feedback:
Always welcome!
Distribution:
Ask first please.
A/N:
This is a response to the Pen Pals Challenge as follows:
The
BtVS/AtS character of your choice and the crossover character of your
choice
become pen pals.
How
does it happen?
Why
do they discuss?
Do
they ever meet?
Is
romance in the air? Or just friendship? Maybe intense dislike?
Memory In Motion- Main Page
Title:
Memory In Motion
Disclaimer:
I do not own the rights to BtVS. They belong to Whedon & Mutant
Enemy. I also do not own the rights to Supernatural. They belong to
Eric Kripke and The CW.
Rating:
PG-15
Genre:
Crossover
Type:
Humor, Angst
Pairing:
DaddyDean/ WeeWillow
Summary:
Through a magical mix-up, Willow ends up in the Impala, disoriented,
terrified, facing the barrel of a gun and somehow... only six years
old.
Spoilers/
Time line: Post series for Buffy and late season one of Supernatural.
Feedback:
Always welcome!
Distribution:
Ask first please.
A/N:
This is a challenge response to pezgirl's The Little Demon Hunting
Challenge at the Twisting the Hellmouth site. Challenge is as
follows-
late
season one- before Dean gets hurt and the car crash
Buffy: post-season 7
A fight with a troublesome demon end with Willow being de-aged and thrown into the Supernatural reality and into Dean's car.
Must have:
Willow being between 4 and 13
Willow not having her memories
Willow still being a witch
Buffy: post-season 7
A fight with a troublesome demon end with Willow being de-aged and thrown into the Supernatural reality and into Dean's car.
Must have:
Willow being between 4 and 13
Willow not having her memories
Willow still being a witch
Chapter One- Frustration Rises
Chapter Two- Murphy's Law or Something Like That
Chapter Three- FUBAR'd
Chapter Four- The D Word
Chapter Five- Moments Of Weird
Chapter Six- Getting It Done Right
Chapter Seven- A Smashy Hammer Troll Tale
Chapter Eight- Ranidaphobic And More
Chapter Nine- An Intimate Look at MOO
Fiction MIM09- An Intimate Look at MOO
Title:
Memory In Motion
Chapter
Title: An Intimate Look at MOO
Author:
Restive Nature
Disclaimer:
I do not own the rights to BtVS. They belong to Whedon & Mutant
Enemy. I also do not own the rights to Supernatural. They belong to
Eric Kripke and The CW.
Rating:
PG-15
Genre:
Crossover
Type:
Humor, Angst
Pairing:
DaddyDean/ WeeWillow
Summary:
Through a magical mix-up, Willow ends up in the Impala, disoriented,
terrified, facing the barrel of a gun and somehow... only six years
old.
Spoilers/
Time line: Post series for Buffy and late season one of Supernatural.
Feedback:
Always welcome!
Distribution:
Ask first please.
A/N:
This is a challenge response to pezgirl's The Little Demon Hunting
Challenge at the Twisting the Hellmouth site. Please refer to chapter
one for challenge details.
Memory
in Motion
Chapter
Nine
“Okay,”
Dean sighed, sitting at one of the table chairs that he had spun
around, leaning his forearms on the chair back, as he looked at both
Sam and Bobby, elbows deep in research already. “So that was what?
Three waters, two pee breaks, check in the closet, under the bed,
four stories and how the hell do parents do this?”
Sam
smirked and gave his brother a knowing look. “Well, for one, they
don't give in to the kid's demand. There's usually a cut off point. I
think it's one glass of water, check the closet and one, maybe two
stories.”
“Shut
up bitch,” Dean snarked and glanced at bobby, who wasn't bothering
to hide his amused grin.
“You
should know this already Dean,” Bobby commented, still flipping
through one of his many collected tomes on magic lore and mythology.
“After all, you're the one who dealt with Sam's demands on a
regular basis.”
“Don't
remind me,” Dean groaned.
“Well,
at least you didn't give her a gun and tell her to shoot the next
thing that came into her room,” Sam complained.
“I
was thinkin' about it,” Dean chuckled. “Then I would have told
you it was your turn to check on her.”
“She
likes you better,” Sam shrugged. “Face it, you're Daddy, I'm just
the incredible, smart, handsome Uncle.”
“Smart
alec is more like it,” Dean scoffed. He reached out for one of the
pads of paper that Sam had been intermittently scribbling on.
“What've you found?”
“In
the ten minutes since you last asked?” Bobby scoffed. “Tons.”
“Pretty
much that I haven't been able to trace our Willow, or even any Willow
Rosenberg from Sunnydale,” Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair,
throwing his pen down. He scrubbed at his eyes a moment and then
wearily regarded his brother. “Record keeping went out the window
months before the town collapsed. From what I understand and Bobby
agreed, there was a mass evacuation, so that makes sense. But certain
records were still open to the public.”
“What
about the medical database?” Dean wondered. Sam nodded, knowing
exactly what his brother was getting at.
“I
was gonna start those next,” he explained. “I've searched about
every birth record I can for California. Which of course, is no
guarantee that she was born there, just cause that's where she says
she lived.
“So
you're gonna look for her mom then?” Dean surmised. Sam nodded and
flipped over to another sheet.
“Ten
pages of names and I've found six women Dr. Rosenberg's, the rest
seem to be male,” Sam recited. “Couple child psychiatrists, one
that specializes in ADHD, clinical, one that's had several papers
published.”
“Maybe
pull that one up first,” Bobby grunted. “They might have printed
a picture with the articles.”
“Yeah,”
Sam grunted. “Dean grab my charger, will ya? The battery is getting
low.”
Dean
rose from his seat to find the mentioned cord, familiar with his
brother's heavy lap top use and even in his head he knew it sounded
much dirtier than Sammy actually got. Oh for wishful thinking that
the kid could actually let loose and have some fun. The world might
stop rotating on its axis if he did that.
“Whoa!”
his brother suddenly breathed out and Dean turned swiftly, even as
Bobby lifted his head.
“What?”
Dean demanded as Sam leaned forward to read whatever it was he had
found, on the screen.
“Just,
let me...” Sam muttered as he tapped a few keys. He sat back
suddenly and shook his head. “Might have a winner here.” Dean,
his interest piquing once more, strode back, cord in hand for his
brother. He leaned over, bracing himself on the table and one hand on
the back of Sam's chair as his younger brother fiddled with attaching
the charger cord and finding a power outlet. Bobby quickly gesture to
the appropriate area and Sam disappeared down to floor level for a
moment.
“I
think you're right Sam,” Dean breathed out, his eyes having picked
up the same key words that had drawn Sam's attention. He clapped his
brother on the shoulder as Sam slid back into his chair.
“Well,
don't keep an old man in suspense,” Bobby snorted, crossing his
arms over his chest. His portion of research wasn't forgotten, but
he'd have liked anything that would narrow the search field at all.
“Okay,'
Sam grunted and cleared his throat, angling his laptop screen
slightly. “Dr. Sheila Rosenberg, formerly of Sunnydale California.
Mostly research papers and grant requests, but then there's this.”
He paused for a moment, switching between the initial page he had
found and what he had been clicking on. 'Understanding the Mob
Psyche in the Modern Age: An Intimate Look at MOO'.”
“Moo?” Bobby repeated. “What the
hell is Moo?”
Sam paused, a slight smirk on his face
as he eyed Dean and then replied. “Mother's Opposing the Occult.”
Dean nodded, like he had suspected
this very thing while Bobby simply scoffed. So Sam continued, reading
and relating, his eyes darting and fingers tapping on the keyboard as
he did so.
“There's a reference here to an
article published in the Sunnydale paper that was the jumping off
point,” Sam concentrated, bringing up several pages of related
material. “Some kids were slain in a local park, discovered by two
women, names withheld, out for a walk. The coroner's office wouldn't
release the official cause of death but rumors sparked immediately
after the incident that because of a ritualistic nature of the
killing and marks on the hands of the dead children were found, that
cultists and/or witches were involved. This led to a candlelight
vigil for the dead children. And one Joyce Summers called for more
stringent action by the adults of Sunnydale. This led to the
formation of Mothers Opposing the Occult, or MOO.”
“Yeah, sounds like the moralistic
crusader crap the norms pull out of their asses when they get
scared,” Dean grimaced, then snorted. “What'd they do? Picket
city hall. Paper the town with flyers.”
“Uh no,” Sam whispered as he
leaned in closer to his computer again. “Looks like it went a lot
further than that Dean. Says here they had a crackdown on any occult
paraphernalia, the town's magic shop owner was blacklisted and pretty
much run out of business. Any children caught with banned
paraphernalia were immediately placed under house arrest for the
parents to deal with and-! Jeeze! They had a book burning at city
hall.”
Dean's eyes widened as he craned his
head to look at the screen. That was almost like sacrilege to Sam's
way of thinking. Sounded pretty dark age to him as well. “Bet that
didn't end well,” he scoffed. Sam was shaking his head and then
grunted.
“Weird,” he muttered and when
nudged by his elder brother, glanced up and then explained himself.
“Dr. Rosenberg claims that the shock of realizing that they were
burning up the books led the group to disbanding and within a matter
of days, the entire incident was forgotten and never mentioned again.
She's got episodes of student's turning on one another, extreme
fanaticism, man, even parent's willing to sacrifice their kids to
keep them from defiling themselves with satan worship.”
“Sounds like that would've been
right up our alley,” Dean nodded.
“It
actually sounds precisely like a form of a Karakoncolos,” Bobby
declared. When both boys looked at him blankly he rolled his eyes at
them. “German bogeyman. They're mostly harmless, but some of them
can manifest enough malevolence from preying on the masses that they
can turn an entire city against itself. It's been suggested that it
was one of these bastards that touched off the Salem Witch trials.”
“Really?” Dean seemed... bemused.
“So how was that bad?”
“Dean,” Sam protested in his tired
tone of protestation at his sibling's narrow minded world view. “The
Salem Witch trials were anything but. There were no witches, at least
not that could be historically proven. If Bobby's right, a demon was
acting on people's insecurities, turning them against one another.”
“I know, I know,” Dean grunted,
waving his hand in his brother's face to try and forestall the
lecture. “Damned if we don't see it all the time ourselves.”
“True,” Sam acceded, breaking off
another argument before it built up much steam.
He continued to look through several
articles, but his eyes kept being drawn back to the article on the
mob psyche. Something about it was striking a chord within him.
Ignoring his brother's huffs and Bobby's quiet page turning, he
started at the beginning of the article and read it through to
completion. It wasn't so much a rant against cultists, or satanists
or even witchcraft, as it seemed to read like a justification. That
the children or even adults that identified with the mythology or
dark arts were simply crying out for attention and discipline.
The woman seemed to be trying too hard
to convince her readers that it was all down to biology and nature,
survival of the fittest trying to weed out those too weak to be part
of society. The mob mentality of the mass joining to bully the weak
or the different. And it left a bad taste in Sam's mouth when he
realized that the paper wasn't so much an informative research effort
as it was one woman's fear that her actions were dangerous, probably
illegal and could be taken in one of the worst way possible.
The words, that there were even
parents willing to sacrifice their children, rang in his head. Was
Sheila Rosenberg one of those parent's? Was the book burning that she
claimed the penultimate event that brought them back to reason? Or
had the parent's been intent on burning something else.
“Sam!” Dean snapped, bringing his
younger brother out of his disturbing revelation.
“What?” he asked. Dean pursed his
lips and then shook his head.
“You find a picture or anything else
on that woman?” his brother wondered. Sam shook his head.
“Looking now,” he replied tersely.
This was easier than searching for Willow. He quickly found her
listed as a contributing member of an online medical panel, along
with another Dr. Rosenberg, this by the name of Ira. “Huh. Got her
husband too,” he muttered, reading the credits as he waited for
some pictures to load. “Looks like he's a psychiatrist too. Though
Sheila's original degree was in child sociological development.”
“What's his name?” Bobby wondered,
pen poised to add it to one of his many lists, for whatever reason
that he probably wouldn't share.
“Ira Rosenberg,” Sam supplied.
Dean leaned over to watch as the photos were loading and waited just
a moment.
“Anything about kids?” he asked.
Sam shook his head in the negative.
“You'd think they'd keep that stuff
private,” Sam offered as way of explanation. “This is for medical
purposes, office hours and stuff, not a tell all of their lives.”
He glanced back at the screen and straightened up. “Here we go.”
He turned the laptop slightly so that his brother could easily see as
well. He frowned and enlarged first the image of Sheila and then or
Ira. “I don't know. What do you think?”
“She's got the red hair,” Dean
nodded. “And I can see some of her features in Willow. Good thing
she seems to take after her mom, huh?”
Sam nodded and then shrugged. “Looks
like if they are Willow's parents, they had her later in life, huh?”
“It happens,” Dean shrugged the
thought off.
“Now wait a minute,” Sam realized
then, another piece of the puzzle that he had been missing. “This
doesn't... this paper was published in '99.”
“So?” Dean wondered at the import
of that tidbit.
“The year Willow probably was born,
if she's six years old now?”
“I don't see the problem?” Bobby
added, also unsure as to where Sam's concern lay. “Explain,” he
demanded tersely.
“This article that she wrote?” Sam
pointed out, which was the only article the others were familiar with
and they nodded. “It doesn't sound like research. It sounds more
like a justification. A- a deposition or something, maybe like why
she and all the others that were under this mob mentality shouldn't
be held responsible. What if she wasn't just a casual observer? She
wrote in the paper about some parents willing to go further.”
“Probably a good chance she was very
involved,” Bobby agreed.
“What if she was one of the ones
willing to sacrifice her kid?” Sam then asked quietly. There was
silence and he turned to his brother. “Has Willow mentioned any
siblings or close friends?”
“Uh... just her mom, her teacher and
her babysitter,” he recalled. And then snapped his fingers, “and
her friend that likes the taste of Ivory soap.”
“Yeah,” Sam scoffed. “Maybe she
had one.” He rolled his eyes at his brother's suddenly furrowed
brows. “A sibling,” he clarified. “Maybe this whole thing went
further than anyone knew.”
“It's an interesting theory Sam,”
Bobby commented. “But that's all it is. A theory. A lot of crap
like this was gonna go down. Sunnydale was a Hellmouth boy. Not
anything like you're used to. Things like this? More regular
occurrence than every small town deal you've hit in the last ten
years.”
“Really?” Dean seemed impressed
and then smirked. “Don't know whether to be relieved the place is
gone or disappointed I didn't get a chance to get my hunt on there.”
“Moron,” Bobby snorted and then
turned back to Sam. “Try to keep the insanity to a minimum Sam.
We've got enough real crap to deal with.”
“All right,” Sam accepted the
chastisement easily enough, because he recognized that Bobby was
right and he should have known that before blurting out suspicions
with no facts to back it up. Because in this group, his gut instinct
was treated more like a momentary muscle cramp than the real thing.
“Hey,” Dean interrupted, his hands
reaching for the computer. “Let me see something.”
“Don't,” Sam grouched almost
slapping at his brother's hands for getting grabby but managed to
restrain himself.
“Hang on,” Dean grumped as he
quickly began pulling up a new search engine. “Lemme see
something,” he reiterated, his haste making him slur slightly.
“What are you looking for Dean?”
Sam demanded trying to see what his brother was typing.
“You said that there was a magic
shop in town,” Dean explained as he swiftly typed. “If we're
looking for information on witches, specifically witches in Sunnydale
that might have done something to Willow, let's bypass them, since
the town is gone, and see who their supplier might have been.”
“That's...” Sam hesitated as he
mulled it over, “not actually a bad idea.”
There were a few minutes to wait as
the search took place. Dean rose from the table and snagged a few
more beers and lingered at the entrance to listen to see if there
were any more problems with Willow to deal with. She seemed to have
settled for the night and he returned to the table, passing out the
beers as he sat.
“Here we go,” he announced
cheerfully, popping the tab on his can while Sam made a noise of
protest. Dean wisely held the beer away from the computer to sip the
resulting foam away, before settling it on the table and wiped his
hands on his jeans. Sam's bitch face was a little much at nearly
midnight. Unless it was directed at something else, but he had the
feeling that his little brother liked to save it specifically for
him.
“The Magic Box,” he read. “5124
Maple Court Sunnydale. Your one stop spot to shop for all your occult
needs. Damn. Bit of a tongue twister,” he flicked his tongue over
his lips and then raised his eyebrows. “Bit surprised the website
is still up if the place got destroyed.”
“Look,” Sam gestured to the
screen. “They've got a mail order system. So they might still be
doing business.”
“Yeah, but the website hasn't been
updated since early two thousands,” Dean countered.
“Which might be a good thing for
us,” Sam noted. “Click there.” he instructed, pointing at the
'About Us' button in the lower portion of the screen. Dean obliged
and waited for a new screen to pop up.
“About Us,' he read.
“Originally opened as Uncle Bob's Magic Cabinet, The Magic Box
has been a Sunnydale staple for supplies ranging from candles to
seeing stones and our ever popular chicken's feet. We boast excellent
selection and a friendly and knowledgeable staff ready to serve
anyone who walks in our doors!” He paused for a moment to smirk
again. “Sounds more like a desperate cry to start clicking on their
shopping cart.”
“Just read Dean,” Bobby sighed.
With an unaffected one shouldered shrug, Dean continued.
“Though the Magic Box changed
hands over the years, our dedication to excellence has grown, as did
the building in 1997. With the name change and new ownership, the
Magic Box continued to garner success as a local haven for
practitioners, dabblers and the curious.
In 2000, the Magic Box was taken
over by former librarian of Sunnydale High School, Rupert Giles.'
Hey, there's a link on his name. How do you right click on this
thing?” he demanded. Sam simply reached over his brother to perform
the function. Dean watched closely to catch it. “Okay, anyway,
'With a background in occult and mythological studies, as well as
Curatorship of the British Museum in London, England, Rupert, more
commonly known by his surname only, stepped into the position of
owner/ operator of the Magic Box after the unfortunate demise of the
local high school due to improper care and maintenance of gas lines
running to and under the school.' What the hell does that have to
do with a magic shop?” Dean wondered with a chuckle.
“Check out the next part,” Sam
guffawed, pointing at the screen and then moving the cursor arrow to
click on another link. Dean leaned forward with a smile and read
aloud the part that had tickled his brother.
“Wisely realizing that as an
aging Brit in the land of opportunity with only a shaky work Visa to
back him up, Giles quickly looked beyond those he normally associated
with to hire on the sensationally vivacious young Anya Jenkins who
quickly rose to the top of the various sales associates hired on as
“help” with her can do attitude and sharp business acumen. Her
wide knowledge of the occult and ability to negotiate wholesale
producers to bring the best merchandise and prices to the heart of
Sunnydale's magical community have elevated this incarnation of the
Magic Box to not just a business, but the reality of the American
Dream!” Dean finished and then burst out laughing.
“I guess we know who built the
website, huh?” Sam grinned. “Or at least wrote the content.”
“Sensationally vivacious,” Dean
snorted as Sam reclaimed his computer. He switched to the other page
he had clicked on and shaking his head the whole while, read over the
profile of Anya Jenkins.
Friday, January 15, 2016
Long Time
More than a year has passed since my last post. I feel as if nothing and yet everything has changed. Personally at least. The anger is one of the major things that I am seeming to be able to let go of. So much has happened in this past year, and none of it is really my stuff, though I am affected by it. It's been over two years since my divorce and moving back home. There are still major changes coming to my life and that of my children, but I feel that we are in a much better place to deal with them.
As to my writing, I finally put a challenge on myself. There was two challenges actually that I decided to accept. The first was a 30 day, 30 minute challenge, that I combined with a 1000 words per day challenge. So far, I have written things entirely for myself, but I am writing on average, 30-45 minutes per day (not including essays for school in this) and averaging anywhere from 1500-2000 words per day. So I am in good shape there.
The other writing challenge that I decided to try out is a 52 prompt challenge. This one relates to writing my life story. Each week takes a different aspect of my life growing up and I can write as little or as much as I want about the topic. Not doing so well with that one as classes picked up this last week and I missed my weekly deadline. So I'll try and work on it today.
I think something else I might challenge myself to is to try and update this blog at least once a month in this coming year. It's a good place for me because it is and always has been, my place.
As to my writing, I finally put a challenge on myself. There was two challenges actually that I decided to accept. The first was a 30 day, 30 minute challenge, that I combined with a 1000 words per day challenge. So far, I have written things entirely for myself, but I am writing on average, 30-45 minutes per day (not including essays for school in this) and averaging anywhere from 1500-2000 words per day. So I am in good shape there.
The other writing challenge that I decided to try out is a 52 prompt challenge. This one relates to writing my life story. Each week takes a different aspect of my life growing up and I can write as little or as much as I want about the topic. Not doing so well with that one as classes picked up this last week and I missed my weekly deadline. So I'll try and work on it today.
I think something else I might challenge myself to is to try and update this blog at least once a month in this coming year. It's a good place for me because it is and always has been, my place.
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
I Believe in Myself
Excuse for a moment. I want to rant. I had almost forgotten that I had this blog. It has been so long since I had the desire to even write a note to myself, let alone anything else. But I need this place because I want to rant. And I don't want to post these things on Facebook where my entire family and friends are watching like fucking hawks. Ready to pick apart anything I post or do and "like" it. Or think that it's an open invitation to comment, that it's their right.
So I'm pissed at the kids right now. And hurt. The 17 year old has been asking for several days when we were supposed to go to their grandparents on Christmas Eve. Well, now that the day gets here, she is demanding to know, when they do one tiny chore, if they can then leave to go to their grandparents for fun! Oh joy. We're having Christmas dinner at our house and she thinks that clearing off the coffee table is the extent of what needs to be done to prepare. And she just looks at me like I'm an alien growing another head in front of her when I am incredulous that she thinks that it's all good. And then acts like the fucking injured party when I tell her to get the hell out of my house. The kid acts like she has the weight of the world on her shoulder because she has to babysit her siblings. Gee, I had to babysit my handicapped sister all the time, as well as keep an eye on my older brother, because my parents didn't believe him to be patient enough to do a good job at taking care of his younger sisters.
And now I have the 18 year old storming around cleaning, like she's doing me some huge fucking favour. It just really pisses me off that to these kids, I have turned into nothing more than the source of food and money and comfort when they want it, but I can go fuck myself it I ever need anything. They laugh at me because I am alone, tell me it's my own fault for not having friends. They seem to forget that I put in fifteen years of almost constant isolation from family, friends, even strangers, put up with a philandering, mentally abusive husband, because I didn't want to leave my girls in his hands. It's not something that I can get over in a year, or even two. I may be back in my hometown now, but that doesn't mean my issues have magically resolved themselves. I still have trouble trusting people, of being out in public, of doing things that are new to me. I keep forcing myself to because I think the reward will be greater than the pain it causes me right now.
It's just getting very hard to keep going when it feels like the only person that believes in me is myself.
So I'm pissed at the kids right now. And hurt. The 17 year old has been asking for several days when we were supposed to go to their grandparents on Christmas Eve. Well, now that the day gets here, she is demanding to know, when they do one tiny chore, if they can then leave to go to their grandparents for fun! Oh joy. We're having Christmas dinner at our house and she thinks that clearing off the coffee table is the extent of what needs to be done to prepare. And she just looks at me like I'm an alien growing another head in front of her when I am incredulous that she thinks that it's all good. And then acts like the fucking injured party when I tell her to get the hell out of my house. The kid acts like she has the weight of the world on her shoulder because she has to babysit her siblings. Gee, I had to babysit my handicapped sister all the time, as well as keep an eye on my older brother, because my parents didn't believe him to be patient enough to do a good job at taking care of his younger sisters.
And now I have the 18 year old storming around cleaning, like she's doing me some huge fucking favour. It just really pisses me off that to these kids, I have turned into nothing more than the source of food and money and comfort when they want it, but I can go fuck myself it I ever need anything. They laugh at me because I am alone, tell me it's my own fault for not having friends. They seem to forget that I put in fifteen years of almost constant isolation from family, friends, even strangers, put up with a philandering, mentally abusive husband, because I didn't want to leave my girls in his hands. It's not something that I can get over in a year, or even two. I may be back in my hometown now, but that doesn't mean my issues have magically resolved themselves. I still have trouble trusting people, of being out in public, of doing things that are new to me. I keep forcing myself to because I think the reward will be greater than the pain it causes me right now.
It's just getting very hard to keep going when it feels like the only person that believes in me is myself.
Friday, October 31, 2014
Another Year of NaNo
This really sucks. I keep thinking about this, over the court of time and yet, it just doesn't seem important enough.
I really have lost interest in writing. Not lost interest in ever doing it again, but it just seems like so much else has gone on. Since my divorce, where I've recovered my life, moving back to my home town, being the sole supporter of myself and my kids, working, going back to school, I just haven't had time. But worse than that I haven't had the inclination.
I've given it a lot of thought and think that perhaps, because of the situation I was in, married, living in a foreign country, cut off from my family… I think I was writing purely as an escape from all of that. And now that I'm no longer trying to escape the hell that was my life, because that has definitely been accomplished, I no longer feel this driving urge to complete these fantasy worlds that I can retreat to in my mind.
I mean yes, I still think of story lines and conversations my characters might have, but there is no "write it or die!" urge screaming at me anymore.
All that said, I think I am going to go ahead and give NaNo a good steam and see what I can manage to churn out. Maybe I'll relearn how to carve out small chunks of chapters at a time until they are done. I just have to remember not to start a whole bunch of new things until I get the old things done!
I really have lost interest in writing. Not lost interest in ever doing it again, but it just seems like so much else has gone on. Since my divorce, where I've recovered my life, moving back to my home town, being the sole supporter of myself and my kids, working, going back to school, I just haven't had time. But worse than that I haven't had the inclination.
I've given it a lot of thought and think that perhaps, because of the situation I was in, married, living in a foreign country, cut off from my family… I think I was writing purely as an escape from all of that. And now that I'm no longer trying to escape the hell that was my life, because that has definitely been accomplished, I no longer feel this driving urge to complete these fantasy worlds that I can retreat to in my mind.
I mean yes, I still think of story lines and conversations my characters might have, but there is no "write it or die!" urge screaming at me anymore.
All that said, I think I am going to go ahead and give NaNo a good steam and see what I can manage to churn out. Maybe I'll relearn how to carve out small chunks of chapters at a time until they are done. I just have to remember not to start a whole bunch of new things until I get the old things done!
Saturday, September 21, 2013
More Trust Issues
I know that I wrote earlier that I have worried that I will develop trust issues. Most of the time, I think about talking to other people, maybe men, sometimes even women and worrying that I don't understand what they're saying or more importantly, why they say it. As an example, I was at a wedding reception tonight and when my 7 year old was being overly friendly with a young man, we were teasing her, calling her a little flirt. He laughed and said that she obviously learned it from her Mom. So I spent the rest of the wagon ride wondering if he was teasing me, or if there was a point in our conversation that he believed that I really was flirting with him. And not only that, but I think this kid and I are distantly related. So that just kind of turned my stomach, also taking in the fact that he had to be at least 15 years my junior.
The other trust issue I have is because of some so called friends back in the States that I thought were loyal to me. Obviously now, by the way my soon to be ex husband is phrasing things, someone down there is talking to him and blabbing everything. It makes me not want to talk to people that know him, because he lost that right to know things about me when he walked out on me and the kids.
There are a lot of things that are upsetting me right now. And I know people care, but it seems to me that what I'm going through is the bottom of everyone's list. I hate feeling like this, that I'm concentrating on my life to the exclusion of everything else. When all this was going down, I didn't have my family and my friends with me. I had to rely on myself to see me and the kids through everything. And then, when I finally get myself and the kids home, everyone is acting like all the bad things are not quite my fault, but I'm the only one around to blame to a small extent. It's like my parents are swooping in and telling me, it's all that bum's fault, don'y worry, we'll take care of everything and you just relax.
Unfortunately, they don't realize that I have had to be strong and there for my kids and deal with everything and be the one to get things done for all these years. So they come in and by trying to spoil the kids and end up ignoring me... it's difficult. I basically end up feeling like the bad guy, or incompetent. I'm not good enough as a Mom because my kids need all these things that I still can't give them, but my parent's can. They need time that I can't give them anymore because I have to work now. They need more space that I can't provide because I have to live in my parent's house until I can establish enough money to do anything. I feel like a failure, even though I know I should be proud of myself for getting us through this far and hanging on and keeping going to strive for a better life than what we had. And maybe I would feel proud of myself, if I didn't still have so many people around me dragging me down. Telling me that my thoughts or memories are wrong. Or people that dismiss my abilities or capacity for what I can possibly do. I've been gone from here almost twenty years. I think it's safe to say, that people just don't know me anymore. Maybe they never did.
The other trust issue I have is because of some so called friends back in the States that I thought were loyal to me. Obviously now, by the way my soon to be ex husband is phrasing things, someone down there is talking to him and blabbing everything. It makes me not want to talk to people that know him, because he lost that right to know things about me when he walked out on me and the kids.
There are a lot of things that are upsetting me right now. And I know people care, but it seems to me that what I'm going through is the bottom of everyone's list. I hate feeling like this, that I'm concentrating on my life to the exclusion of everything else. When all this was going down, I didn't have my family and my friends with me. I had to rely on myself to see me and the kids through everything. And then, when I finally get myself and the kids home, everyone is acting like all the bad things are not quite my fault, but I'm the only one around to blame to a small extent. It's like my parents are swooping in and telling me, it's all that bum's fault, don'y worry, we'll take care of everything and you just relax.
Unfortunately, they don't realize that I have had to be strong and there for my kids and deal with everything and be the one to get things done for all these years. So they come in and by trying to spoil the kids and end up ignoring me... it's difficult. I basically end up feeling like the bad guy, or incompetent. I'm not good enough as a Mom because my kids need all these things that I still can't give them, but my parent's can. They need time that I can't give them anymore because I have to work now. They need more space that I can't provide because I have to live in my parent's house until I can establish enough money to do anything. I feel like a failure, even though I know I should be proud of myself for getting us through this far and hanging on and keeping going to strive for a better life than what we had. And maybe I would feel proud of myself, if I didn't still have so many people around me dragging me down. Telling me that my thoughts or memories are wrong. Or people that dismiss my abilities or capacity for what I can possibly do. I've been gone from here almost twenty years. I think it's safe to say, that people just don't know me anymore. Maybe they never did.
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