Ficlet, Next bit

[stoney321]

I'm having a hard time making words do what I want today. This is working for me on one level, but I welcome your thoughts. It's an image I've had in my head for a bit...

Title: Painted Ladies
Author: Me
Rating: PG-13 (if life was fair)
Pairings: Angel/Connor, Fred is still there
Summary: Continuation from "Sisters," now Angel's POV.
THANK YOU: To kita0610 for the beta and making this less wonky. All errors belong to me, unfortunately.


Painted Ladies
He remembered telling Buffy once that he hated the women of his day. Liam hated the taste of the powders they used to whiten their flesh. The stink of the rouge to redden their lips. He favored the bar wench over the refined lady of means. The bar maids smelled of ale and hard work. No scent of powders to sicken him when he wished to leave his mark. But Angelus... Angelus loved the fine ladies of the 18th century. How enticing their blood looked as it ran down their necks. The contrast of its blackness against the rice powder on their wigs and breasts. How convenient it was for a vampire with their unnaturally white flesh and blood-red lips to mingle among the fools of the court.

He smelled that his son was different, altered. The smoke had permeated their clothing and left a dinstinctive aroma. His first impulse was to hurt her - that she dared weaken his strong, proud boy! Angelus, ever watchful, wanted to hurt the boy while he was vulnerable. Angel stayed back in the shadows and watched Fred put base and powder on Connor's cheeks, his forehead. He stared at the small gap between his son's hairline and where the makeup began. Pink. Healthy. He watched as Connor laughed and pushed her hand away, not wanting the red lip-liner. Fred made a pouty face and Connor relented.

Angel fought the urge to grab his son by the back of his neck and throw him against the wall. To bite his lip and make the blood color that young mouth, that pink flesh. To see the black/red against the ivory of the makeup. The demon (or was it the man?) within wanted to take that pretense of innocence and pound it, hurt it, wound it to turn back into the strength that was there before.

He was not aware of the low growl he made in the back of his throat. Angel saw Connor's shoulders stiffen, yet his son didn't push Fred aside. Angel watched as Connor looked in his direction, parted his lips slightly and allowed Fred to line them. Connor titled his head back kept his gaze on the shadows through half-lidded eyes. When Angel saw Connor's small, pink tongue dart out and moisten his lower lip to test the red now staining it, he crept back into the shadows and into Connor's room. To wait. To wipe that paint off his face.

Angel's last thought before he turned away was how Connor looked just like his mother.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*


I want to write a bit about why Connor hates the name Connor and prefers Stephen, but that is definitely NC-17 material in my head. I need the practice, but I hate spamming your flists... Champagne first.

Comments

[kita0610.livejournal.com]

MMmmurfle.

Yea, the execution is a little rough, but the idea is luscious. It could use a bit of a beta. Want one? Want one for the NC-17 bit too? I am at your disposal.

[stoney321.livejournal.com]

Thank you again. I'm about to hit my next glass of bubbly, which will either make me stop repeating words, or fall into a stupor.

[paynbow.livejournal.com]

I like the story a lot...I agree that it just needs a once-over. I love the way you write Connor *g*

[stoney321.livejournal.com]

Well... *cough* It had a once over. So the question for you is what isn't working? Spelling error? Awkward sentence? Unclear idea(s)?

I want (need) critique as I feel very rusty in the writing fanfic game. Specifics! I'm tough, chicky. :-)

[paynbow.livejournal.com]

Alrighty, I'm in...

Angelus, ever watchful, wanted to hurt the boy while he was vulnerable. Angel stayed back in the shadows and watched Fred put base and powder on Connor's cheeks,

I would start a new paragraph with "Angel stayed..." You're definitely moving on to a new thought.

To bite his lip and make the blood color those young lips, that pink flesh.

This sentence is just a little awkward, partially because of the repetition of "lip(s)".

But Angel saw Connor's shoulders stiffen, yet his son didn't push Fred aside.

I would cut out the "But", simple because it sounds like repetition again. 'But' and 'yet' have similar meanings, so having both seems a little redundant.

To wait. To wipe that paint off his face.

Angel's last thought before he turned away was that Connor looked just like his mother.

You have such a distinctive style in the paragraph before, with the short meaning-packed sentences. The last sentence seems very wordy by contrast. You could almost say, "He looked just like his mother." and we'd get that it was Angel's thoughts...THAT's what it is...it seems like a shift in perspective at the end. The rest of the story is Angel's POV and the last sentence is like a shift to Omniscient narrator.

I hope this is helpful. And feel free to spam...especially with this quality stuff. This is no mere canned meat-product *g*

[somecandytalkin.livejournal.com]

Hey, champagne girl - spam me away.
Grrr....lovely imagery.

[stoney321.livejournal.com]

I can definitely agree on the but/yet. That was a re-write. Taken out of context, it looks right. But then, I want you to take it IN context, right? :-)

The original version of the last sentence was far more verbose with excessive use of pronouns and no identifiers. I have to say that I liked how it turned out - I have a need for a bow at the end of fics when I write. Does that make sense?

Oh, and another thing I do is use words repetitively (and not in some cool, literary way), so I've retooled the lip/lip bit.

Normally I write something, read it to Sue over the phone, pay her a compliment so she says nice things, then post my fic. I like this workshop-esque atmosphere happening.

[stoney321.livejournal.com]

Bah. Somehow my reply didn't go to the bottom of your comment. See below. And thank you! Thoughts are goooood.

[paynbow.livejournal.com]

Normally I write something, read it to Sue over the phone, pay her a compliment so she says nice things, then post my fic.

lol...I read my stories to Kirsty over the phone. It's amazing how many fun errors you find when you read something out loud *g*

I'm glad I'm helping *g* I do the repetition thing too, so I'm always on the lookout for it.

[stoney321.livejournal.com]

Um... BOO! (I'm turning in shortly, but if you need to email me and puke the crap that was today, I'm up for ewe.)

And thanks, BTW.

[somecandytalkin.livejournal.com]

Thanks, sweetie. I'm gonna turn in as well. I will distill said crap to as few sentences as possible and spam ya in teh morning. Or maybe I'll wake up all fresh and new and fabulous:)Or possibly both.

[anelith.livejournal.com]

Wow, this is... amazing.

I think this was my favorite line:

The demon (or was it the man?) within wanted to take that pretense of innocence and pound it, hurt it, wound it to turn back into the strength that was there before.

That seems such a demon-esque perspective on things, such an Angelus POV. But you have a question in there about who wants it, the man or the demon? So interesting.

[stoney321.livejournal.com]

Oh, Anne. Thanks you. (I added that particular line as an afterthought.) But I think it's key for me to understand their relationship. Didn't Angel ALWAYS seem angry around him? I mean, Angel wasn't one to display a range of emotions, but I always saw the anger under the surface - angry that his baby was now this angry, sullen young man.

[ros-fod.livejournal.com]

You have killed me dead. DEAD.

Here, have some of VK's cock.

[stoney321.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Here, have some of his TEARS and his RESIGNATION.

[ros-fod.livejournal.com]

What was that about tears (http://www.rosfod.com/stoney/76.jpg) and resignation (http://www.rosfod.com/stoney/118.jpg)?

Awwwwww, so sad (http://www.rosfod.com/stoney/57.jpg).

[stoney321.livejournal.com]

Fuuuuuuuuuuuu-!

Fucking hell. This BOY!! In my head he is sad and resigned to a life of prostitution. In Calcutta. Wishing his dad would come in, get a BJ, and whisk him away.

Yesss, my precioussss.

[ros-fod.livejournal.com]

Wishing his dad would come in, get a BJ, and whisk him away.

Heeeeeeeee! I assume you mean, Angel, and not, you know, *VK*'s dad. Who, hysterically, enough, is named James. *dies laughing*

And I will so be friending you.

[stoney321.livejournal.com]

It helps when I let more words come out of my fingers *ouch* than sticking around in my head...

I have this mental picture of VK being very much like Connor. Sad, angry, broken, needing cock, er, needing love... So in my head, his dad is ALWAYS gonna be Angel. And I like to warp Pink Floyd to suit my needs: "hush my little baby/don't you cry..."

And back at ya, toots!