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 Been sprinting most of the day with @NaNoWordSprints. I'm having the weirdest time with this one fic (now 7K+ words), but then I came to a scene end before a 15 minute sprint and this was what I did during that time:

"I don't know what to say"
"Well that makes two of us."
"Three, if we count the author."
"Which, obviously, we should."
"Especially since we're not really in-character."
"The blame has to go to someone, that's for sure."
"Who says 'lovely' these days?"
"I think the question is who in our realm says lovely?"
"Jane does at times. But not like that."
"Do you have any idea who's talking right now?"
"Not in the slightest. I don't think the author knows either."
"Hey! Lady! You up there! Knock it off."
Sorry, can't. Must type. It's NaNoWordSprint don't you understand?
"What the hell is nanowordsprint?"
"Oh, hey Lisbon. We're trying to keep the crazy lady from writing about us."
"Who just said that?"
"Not sure." Rigsby said with a sigh. "Though I've just been identified."
"Right. This isn't weird. Not at all," Lisbon muttered.
"Why are people getting acknowledgements now?"
"And why didn't you?"
"Or you?"
Rigsby groaned, "What kind of game is this?"
"Can I leave, now?" Lisbon asked.
"Take me with you," Van Pelt pleaded.
"And now we're down to Jane and Cho," Lisbon commented.
"Does this mean that they've bled into each other?" Grace asked.
"That sounds gross," Rigsby said.
"We didn't bleed into each other."
"Do we sound alike?"
"On paper, yes," Van Pelt said. "Although I guess you shouldn't."
"Lady, you up there! We're not the same person."
I know that, damn it! Stop bitching.
"Why are we poorly written in here?" Jane inquired with a tired sigh.
"Oh thank god," Lisbon muttered.
"Do I get a tag?" Cho asked crossly.
"Cho's cross, ha!" Rigsby pointed.
"Are we in grade school?"
"Apparently," Jane noted. "Lisbon, you did say that, right?"
"Wasn't that implied?" Lisbon asked.
Grace pointed out, "In a purely dialogue-based context, where no one's really in character anyway, no it's not clear."
"Thanks for pointing that out," Lisbon said dryly. "However, tell that to the author, not me."
Grace looked up. "Where is she, exactly?"
Hello, this is the voice of God...
"Jane pulled that once," Lisbon remarked.
"So did Wilson," Rigsby said.
Rigsby rolled his eyes. "Wilson, on House. When House was in the MRI. Can't remember why."
"You watch House?" Lisbon asked in surprise.
Wayne frowned. "I do? Wait. Would that be something I'd do?"
Grace shrugged. "Maybe we caught reruns sometimes. I don't know."
"We don't seem to know much of anything here," Jane commented.
"Which is particularly annoying," Cho muttered.
"Is this what happens when authors encounter writer's block yet pursist in just typing?" Lisbon asked.
I suppose. It hasn't exactly manifested like this before. And with so many words. Why can't this story make more sense? Be more in character? More satisfying?
"Well we can always make it more satisfying..."
"Wow, stereo," Jane remarked. "And wow, innuendo stated in public. Do I need to specify who with?"
"Doesn't that mean Lisbon's the fifth wheel?" Grace asked.
"Orgy?" Jane proposed with a look of innocence.
"Oh god, please shut up," Cho said.
"Seconded," Lisbon begged, groaning into her hands.
Rigsby shouted, "Hey! Lady! Up there! Disembodied voice, would you shut off your alarm?"
But what if I forget my medication?
"You're talking to fictional characters who aren't acting in character and you're typing the entire dialogue," Jane pointed out logically.
Well when you put it like that... I probably won't forget my meds, huh?
"Yeah, I don't think so," Lisbon said.
Couldn't find my fucking phone. It was still on the floor.
"If this is what comes out of writing on the floor, don't do it again," Cho said.
I'm sitting on my chair while I'm writing this, FYI.
"Yeah, but this whole story started while you were on the floor," Van Pelt reminded.
Oh Grace, how quickly you forget that the first 200 something words of this were started last night while I sat in this same chair.
"That sounded creepy," Rigsby commented.
Nice to hear you're all on the same page. (Har, har, har)

"Um, do you think we can escape while IT's distracted?" Rigsby whispered.
I can hear you, idiot.
"That's just not fair," Cho muttered.
"I'd suggest trying to shoot her except that she's not part of this world and is a disembodied voice and all."
"Fuck it."

And after all that I did indeed almost forget to take my meds. *facepalm*


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Oct. 19th, 2010 06:57 pm (UTC)
I have no words ...... really

your wordsprint fics (im reading them backwards - ya know recent ones first, older onces second - shut up Lou) are kinda scary but in a total good way.

and once again I'm procrastnating to avoid writing fic.

Oct. 19th, 2010 07:25 pm (UTC)
*snort* Yes, my head can be a scary place, especially when under the writing stress.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )