i was tagged by lovely @like-the-direction (link to her entry here, atĀ like-the-direction) thank you so much ~ this is fun bc it reminds me of just how many WIPs i have lying around that are just collecting dust >u^ so this might prompt me to give them a do-over ~someday lol
āThe rules: Go to page 7 of your WIP, go to the seventh line, share seven sentences, and tag 7 more writer-bloggers to continue the challenge.ā
iāll bend the rules a little though bc i donāt have 7 pages of every WIP and even when i do, it tends to fall into the ārated Rā portion of my fics. for now, i shall keep this PG-13. these will all be fics from different fandoms(mostly Jak and Daxter) that are not parts of series i have posted before. also, the way i count sentences might be... different? wrong? iām probably just posting snippets, so
also; how many WIPs were i allowed to post again? eh iāll just give it four.Ā
WIP#1: Tintin comics(HergĆ©), entitled something likeĀ āAlcazarpolis Esta Nocheā:
He was trying his hardest not to bother with even thinking about what it was, to begin with, that made him anxious about the past, because he thought he could lessen the weight that way. Simultaneously, he was hoping that Alcazar himself had forgiven and forgotten.
So Tintin pushed the handle all the way down, compelling his being to give it up and act like his own, usual self once he had stepped all the way inside that hut.
Inside, it was not much different from the outside, which was mostly the fault of the grass floor and humid air. Of course, the primitive cabin did have things, which did not grow as ready-made as they were in the jungle, like the real wooden desk, the lamps and beds filling the space. And speaking of that, Alcazar was hunched over that table, working on plans and whatnot, before his head rose at the sound of Tintinās steps nearing the work-station.
Tintin made the briefest of eye-contact with Alacazar, before the man broke into a wolfish grin and hastily stood up from his chair to greet him in a welcoming manner.
WIP#2: Jak and Daxter series, entitledĀ āI Liedā:
Erol took two tight handfuls of Razerās shirt, dragging him up close, nosetips touching. Their breaths mingled, but neither had parted their lips for that impending kiss.
Their eyes were too close for them to look into the otherās, but Razer focused his best to gaze into an ochre orb, its eyelid half-way down. He followed the flat black bead in the center, and he was sure it was looking right at his as well.
Razer took Erolās fists in his, loosening them, an attempt at disarming him. In seconds, his palms were relaxed and feeling warmer wrapped up in Razerās. Erolās audible, stressed breathing had abated, too. So the bad weather was clearing up.
Razer lowered his eyebrows, confused. āI thought, you said you didnāt want me to touch you.ā
The reddened, yellow eye glistened after a blink. āI lied.ā
WIP#3: Jak and Daxter series, entitledĀ āJust A Little Fun Crimeā
āSince Iām still working, Iāll just ask, straight up; what were you really doing, speeding? Is it some sort of attention-seeking?ā Erol rested his elbow on the edge of the table, supporting his jaw with his fist.
Razer resumed his smirking. āI actually sent you a kind thought in those moments, running fast like that. I wanted to have fun, like I always do. Donāt know why you came to mind, though.ā He relaxed even more, leaning his head just slightly to the side. āI was hoping to get picked up by the cops and frisked. You being the one to do it, that was just the cherry on top.ā
Erol leaned closer, humming a satisfied note. āSo it was attention-seeking.ā
Razer mimicked, leaning forward. Without the table, they would have been close enough to touch. āIt worked perfectly.ā
WIP#4: Star Trek(of the newer J.J. Abrams movies), entitledĀ āBones Dinerā(a Diner!AU, unsurprisingly):
Tuesday caught Leonard like a leg in a beartrap from the very first hour he was awake. He had awoken with the memory in his mind of a dream, something both disturbing and fuzzy beyond comfort.
In the dream, Leonard was walking along a deserted highway, not knowing where to go. Out of nowhere, a Harley burst into the frame, and sitting on that Harley was the pie-guy. He was dressed like a James Dean impersonator, and he stopped right in front of Leonard.
āRide with me to the pie in the sky?ā He had said, smiling with his diamond-shaming teeth. Leonard was reluctant in the dream, and kept walking ahead. The man kept riding his Harley up and down the road, as if to impress Leonard, and just when he was fading away in the smeared red sunset, he woke up.
i donāt know who to tag, so i wonāt stop anyone from trying this out yourself and posting some drafts on your blogs. if you do, you can drop me a message and iāll read it anytime!