women and hockey scores

Well, I started the re-write. I know this isn't even sort of up to par with what I had before, but I plan to go back and make it pretty once I get the story itself out.

Tony Piccolo had taken to calling his friend’s condition “brainfucked”. Wendy Smith couldn’t help but thinking about how close to the truth that expression was.

She also couldn’t help counting the days it had been since Clay Marshall’s attack on Lucas Wolenczak. She counted every morning in the vain, unconscious hope that doing so would speed his recovery. It hadn’t worked yet, and the number of days was increasing.

Thirteen so far. Thirteen days, ten hours, and four minutes to be precise.

On day two, seaQuest had limped into port at New Cape Quest in order to repair her demolished missile control room. Upon arrival, Captain Bridger, Commander Ford, and Lieutenant Brody had been summoned to stand before a board of inquiry regarding the destruction of the syntium missiles and the death of the world’s leading parapsychologist.

Tony and Dagwood, who Wendy felt had suffered enough, were being held in UEO custody until their involvement could be determined, although Wendy was certain the higher-ups in UEO command would not believe them if they told their story.

Wendy was determined not to leave the boat – not with Lucas still comatose. She was loathe to send him to a stateside facility as well, knowing the idea would not go over well with Bridger and knowing that Lucas would not get the kind of care he would need. Especially since now she had a plan of attack – she knew how to go about getting Lucas back, but she would need help to do it.

Wendy sat at her desk, waiting to speak with the captain. She ran her plan over again in her head. It would work. It ought to work. It was risky, it would put her in danger, but it was no comparison to the risk of letting Lucas slowly slip into oblivion. She had already waited longer than would have been preferable, but she had no choice. She had little support staff now that they were docked, and with the captain and most of the command crew gone, she’d had no one to bounce ideas off of. She checked in with Bridger every day, but there was rarely good news – from either side.

hmm

LJ is taking an awfully long time showing my updates. Weird.

yay

added a few more icons to my list. One is kind of hard to read but it was the best I could do without Adobe.

It's sad how much I have come to rely on Adobe in the very short time I've had it. I adore it. I especially like how it allows you to add text right on the photo itself instead of having to type it in a dialogue box like in Paintshop.

PotC rec...

This is the first time I've ever recced something from fanfiction.net, but this story is actually surprisingly good for that forum.

Whelp, by Ailcia, is told primarily from Jack Sparrow's point of view, in third-person limited. The characterization is lovely and the writing is fluid. The characters - particularly Jack - are well voiced, and despite the slashy overtones, it is pretty much a gen story.

It's a short (very short) fic that deals with the interim between Jack returning from the caves and his would-be hanging. The beginning of the story is beautiful, but it is thrown off by the two much shorter parts following the scenes aboard the ship. Had the story ended before the "several... fill in the blank... later..." switchover, it would have been more powerful.

As it is, however, "Whelp" is proof that not everything on fanfiction.net is hopeless. I have yet to read her other PotC fic, but I am certainly now inclined to do so.