Trick or Treat Meme

[john_amend_all]

Memed from clocketpatch:

In honor of All Hallow's Eve, I'm inviting trick-or-treaters to my 'door.' Comment "trick-or-treat" to this post and...well, you know the drill. Treats can be anything that strikes my fancy (pics of fave actors or pairings, one sentence fics, graphics, a few words why I'm glad to have you on my flist, etc. etc.).

The more "houses" to visit the more fun it'll be, so go ahead, open your journal and help spread the fun!

This entry was originally posted at http://john-amend-all.dreamwidth.org/77040.html. Feel free to comment there or here.

Comments

[john_amend_all]

Here's a fragment of a TTR story the rest of which remains stubbornly unwritten:

A little way down the winding road that led to the Schloss Dusterenwald, space bulged, swirled, and disgorged a battered-looking white van. The words ACE-TEAM had been crudely spraypainted on both sides, not quite obliterating the previous owner's details. It would not have taken much examination of the faded marks to uncover the van's former identity as the flagship of a small plumbing company.

Sitting in the front passenger seat, with Catbert contentedly dozing on her lap, Nyssa tried to concentrate on the road ahead, rather than the endless jolting and shuddering of the vehicle. She'd caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, looking decidedly green.

Ray, at the wheel, glanced across at her, and seemed to come to the same conclusion. "Sorry about the ride," she said. "I keep meaning to do something about the shock absorbers, but we never get the time."

"I've known worse," Nyssa said. "You've never ridden in Lord Omega, have you?"

"You'll never get me in that thing," Ray retorted, steering with one hand while she wrestled the gear lever with the other, to the accompaniment of a nasty grinding. "Oh, this gearbox is a dreadful pudding. One of these days I'm going to strip it right down. And before you mention it, Ace, I haven't forgotten you want the van painted black, either."

"With a red stripe," Ace's voice said, from the rear compartment of the van.

"What's that smell?" It was one of the other girls; the pale, edgy-looking one with yellow and green highlights in her hair, who rejoiced in the name of Mags. "Is there something wrong with the engine?"

"No, that's probably just my liniment," Ray replied cheerfully. "Garlic and rhubarb. I thought if there were vampires around, it couldn't hurt, could it?" Steering one-handed again, she dug in her pocket and pulled out an earthenware jar. "From my Granny's medicine cabinet — it's got to have been maturing for a hundred and fifty years if it's a day. Does anyone else want some?"

"Sounds like a plan," Ace said. "Hand it over. D'you just rub it on?"

"That's right." Ray passed the bottle back over her shoulder.

"All over you?"

"Wherever you like. My leathers have never gone on so easy."

"Right, then." There was a sound as of a cork being taken out of a bottle, and the air was immediately full of garlic fumes. "Here goes nothing."

"After you with that," Ace's other recruit said. That had to be the Goth girl. Susan Q, she called herself.

Mags made a retching sound. "You lot are going to stink."

Nyssa, feeling her own gorge rising, pulled out a scented handkerchief and held it over her nose and mouth. "Tell me we're going to get there soon," she said.

[pedanther]

Ha!