IMOGEN MELFORD IS OLD
May. 30th, 2006 10:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fenellaNow that I'm at home, unemployed and mostly stress-free, I don't ever update this thing. Thus proving the popular theory that prolific-ness is directly proportional to stress levels.
Anyways... Happy (now belated, but hey it balances out the early celebration) Birthday to the 26 year old![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
imelford.
For Imo (and prompted by Sally's five words) here's the first of three parts for Medium Rare the fourth (but second to be written) fic in the ever unpopular "Steak" series.
A shout out for Smoke and Ashes which came out today and another for the efficiency with which indigo.com ships their books. Yay for new Tony! Lee! Jack! Henry! Amy! Zev! Demons! Syndicated television! 4000 year old stunt woman!
This, however, was written before I read the new novel. And yes I do realize that Henry and Tony don't actually act this gay:
<><><><>
Medium Rare - Part One
<><><><>
“Let’s go to New York,” says Tony.
“New York?” asks Henry dubiously as he eyes his reflection. “As in the city?”
“Yeah, you know – The Big Apple, Gotham city – ” Tony makes an ambiguous gesture in the air that Henry doesn’t see anyways. “New York, New York: A Wonderful Town...”
Henry grimaces as he holds a grey sweater up to his torso, “Do you mind if we skip the song and dance number tonight? I’m running late as it is.”
Tony pauses (he’s been pacing the floor of Henry’s condo for the better part of the last hour, as Henry goes about his vain, not-so hetero, metro sexual vamp routine) and looks interested. “Does that make me Gene or Frank, do you think?”
At this Henry actually looks at Tony – or rather Tony’s reflection in the mirror – his voice dry and amused. “I didn’t think you liked musicals.”
“Wait what, Sinatra in a sailor’s suit? You think I’m going to miss that?”
Henry grins briefly before assuming mock lecture mode. “Theatre – and by extension musicals, admittedly to a much lesser degree – are art. Once again, you’ve managed to reduce things to their most primal level. I don’t know how you do it.”
Tony grimaces, “That’s rich coming from you Mr. Sleep, Seduce and Feed.”
This offends the Prince in Henry. “I’m a complex being.”
“Sure,” shrugs Tony.
“I am!”
“Yes I know,” Tony says to console Henry. “Sometimes when you’re feeling especially wild, you wear Versace instead of Armani…”
“Hey,” protests Henry. “I do wild, exciting things. Sometimes I even save the world.”
“Yet you’re scared of big bad New York.” Stab, twist, one point to Anthony Foster.
Henry’s lip curls upward in distaste. “I’m not –” A controlled exhale. “– I don’t like New York; New Yorkers are barbarians.”
“Ah huh,” says Tony. “When was the last time you were there?”
“There was a mob,” Henry growls, losing the pretence of patience. “Civilized people and polite conversation do not generate gang warfare.”
“1862,” Tony feels the need to point out. “A regular Leonardo and Cameron tragedy.”
“I hate the Irish.”
“For what it’s worth, I think that they hate you too.” Tony reflects that he has better things to do than bicker with a vampire who is first and foremost, a diva.
Half a second later he realizes that sadly, no he doesn’t have anything better, and dives in for the long haul. “I mean, with your dad and sisters and all.”
“Half-sisters.” Henry hovers between sulking and outrage.
It’s a shame that Henry hates television so much (“outrageous substitute for culture”) because he’d make one hell of a hit with the children, thinks Tony. Right up there with Bob the Builder and Dora the Explorer: Henry the Anal Vampire. On today’s show, we learn the proper etiquette for seventeenth century table settings. Salad bowls to the left, children. [Insert patronizingly fanged smile here.]
“Details,” Tony says, examining his alternatively dirty and broken nails. “The Irish were forced to immigrate by your family.” He chooses not to touch the added bonus of the demon/god/faith love/hate ménage à trois.
“The Stuarts,” says Henry pointedly (“You uneducated, insensitive scum”), “Are not my family.”
Tony kicks himself mentally for even attempting to win with this argument -
the trick was to convince Henry about New York without the Prince of Darkness ego sustaining any lasting damage.
“Come on Henry, it’d be just like the movies.” Tony pauses in thought. “But without the singing and dancing, or sailors’ suits… and more with the needy NYC male than the independent young women. Oh, or that third guy. Because there’s only the two of us, right.”
Henry is slouched against his boudoir, eyeing the younger man warily.
“What was that third guy’s name, anyways?”
“You really want to go to New York?” asks Henry.
Tony nods in affirmation.
“I’ll sulk the whole way,” Henry warns.
“Probably.”
The vampire sighs after a few moments of stubborn silence. “We’ll talk more about this later, I’m going out. You can spend the night here if you want.”
Tony grins as Henry hunts for his keys.
“Oh, and Tony?”
“Yeah Henry?”
“We’re less On The Town and more Batman and Robin.”
“Dibs on Batman.”
Eyebrows raised, Henry laughs. “Don’t kid yourself.”
The door slams, leaving Tony alone with sudden, homicidal thoughts (Is it homicide if he’s already dead?); just like that, the score is slanted heavily in Henry’s favour.
<><><><>
Anyways... Happy (now belated, but hey it balances out the early celebration) Birthday to the 26 year old
imelford.For Imo (and prompted by Sally's five words) here's the first of three parts for Medium Rare the fourth (but second to be written) fic in the ever unpopular "Steak" series.
A shout out for Smoke and Ashes which came out today and another for the efficiency with which indigo.com ships their books. Yay for new Tony! Lee! Jack! Henry! Amy! Zev! Demons! Syndicated television! 4000 year old stunt woman!
This, however, was written before I read the new novel. And yes I do realize that Henry and Tony don't actually act this gay:
<><><><>
Medium Rare - Part One
<><><><>
“Let’s go to New York,” says Tony.
“New York?” asks Henry dubiously as he eyes his reflection. “As in the city?”
“Yeah, you know – The Big Apple, Gotham city – ” Tony makes an ambiguous gesture in the air that Henry doesn’t see anyways. “New York, New York: A Wonderful Town...”
Henry grimaces as he holds a grey sweater up to his torso, “Do you mind if we skip the song and dance number tonight? I’m running late as it is.”
Tony pauses (he’s been pacing the floor of Henry’s condo for the better part of the last hour, as Henry goes about his vain, not-so hetero, metro sexual vamp routine) and looks interested. “Does that make me Gene or Frank, do you think?”
At this Henry actually looks at Tony – or rather Tony’s reflection in the mirror – his voice dry and amused. “I didn’t think you liked musicals.”
“Wait what, Sinatra in a sailor’s suit? You think I’m going to miss that?”
Henry grins briefly before assuming mock lecture mode. “Theatre – and by extension musicals, admittedly to a much lesser degree – are art. Once again, you’ve managed to reduce things to their most primal level. I don’t know how you do it.”
Tony grimaces, “That’s rich coming from you Mr. Sleep, Seduce and Feed.”
This offends the Prince in Henry. “I’m a complex being.”
“Sure,” shrugs Tony.
“I am!”
“Yes I know,” Tony says to console Henry. “Sometimes when you’re feeling especially wild, you wear Versace instead of Armani…”
“Hey,” protests Henry. “I do wild, exciting things. Sometimes I even save the world.”
“Yet you’re scared of big bad New York.” Stab, twist, one point to Anthony Foster.
Henry’s lip curls upward in distaste. “I’m not –” A controlled exhale. “– I don’t like New York; New Yorkers are barbarians.”
“Ah huh,” says Tony. “When was the last time you were there?”
“There was a mob,” Henry growls, losing the pretence of patience. “Civilized people and polite conversation do not generate gang warfare.”
“1862,” Tony feels the need to point out. “A regular Leonardo and Cameron tragedy.”
“I hate the Irish.”
“For what it’s worth, I think that they hate you too.” Tony reflects that he has better things to do than bicker with a vampire who is first and foremost, a diva.
Half a second later he realizes that sadly, no he doesn’t have anything better, and dives in for the long haul. “I mean, with your dad and sisters and all.”
“Half-sisters.” Henry hovers between sulking and outrage.
It’s a shame that Henry hates television so much (“outrageous substitute for culture”) because he’d make one hell of a hit with the children, thinks Tony. Right up there with Bob the Builder and Dora the Explorer: Henry the Anal Vampire. On today’s show, we learn the proper etiquette for seventeenth century table settings. Salad bowls to the left, children. [Insert patronizingly fanged smile here.]
“Details,” Tony says, examining his alternatively dirty and broken nails. “The Irish were forced to immigrate by your family.” He chooses not to touch the added bonus of the demon/god/faith love/hate ménage à trois.
“The Stuarts,” says Henry pointedly (“You uneducated, insensitive scum”), “Are not my family.”
Tony kicks himself mentally for even attempting to win with this argument -
the trick was to convince Henry about New York without the Prince of Darkness ego sustaining any lasting damage.
“Come on Henry, it’d be just like the movies.” Tony pauses in thought. “But without the singing and dancing, or sailors’ suits… and more with the needy NYC male than the independent young women. Oh, or that third guy. Because there’s only the two of us, right.”
Henry is slouched against his boudoir, eyeing the younger man warily.
“What was that third guy’s name, anyways?”
“You really want to go to New York?” asks Henry.
Tony nods in affirmation.
“I’ll sulk the whole way,” Henry warns.
“Probably.”
The vampire sighs after a few moments of stubborn silence. “We’ll talk more about this later, I’m going out. You can spend the night here if you want.”
Tony grins as Henry hunts for his keys.
“Oh, and Tony?”
“Yeah Henry?”
“We’re less On The Town and more Batman and Robin.”
“Dibs on Batman.”
Eyebrows raised, Henry laughs. “Don’t kid yourself.”
The door slams, leaving Tony alone with sudden, homicidal thoughts (Is it homicide if he’s already dead?); just like that, the score is slanted heavily in Henry’s favour.
<><><><>
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-05-31 11:54 pm (UTC)You couldn't have given me a better fic if you'd tried: between Henry and Tony, Sinatra, Frank and Gene, Batman and Robin, the Tudors and Stuarts and the metro-sexual line... much love, much love.
If I had to pick a favourite bit, this would be it:
It’s a shame that Henry hates television so much (“outrageous substitute for culture”) because he’d make one hell of a hit with the children, thinks Tony. Right up there with Bob the Builder and Dora the Explorer: Henry the Anal Vampire. On today’s show, we learn the proper etiquette for seventeenth century table settings. Salad bowls to the left, children. [Insert patronizingly fanged smile here.]
Oh, okay. And this one.
“The Stuarts,” says Henry pointedly (“You uneducated, insensitive scum”), “Are not my family.”
And you're right about them not being this gay. But barely. And it's just fun, innit?
In conclusion: my books have come!!! (Who needs a prince when you have Indigo.ca?)
Imogen
and a question
Date: 2006-05-31 11:56 pm (UTC)