[H/C Bingo] "Eeled" remains the best verb I've used all day.

[magibrain]

So, I'm not sure exactly why I decided that a story covering Neal Caffrey's entire adult life through the the resolution of Most Wanted was a good idea, but I did, and that, I feel, was a mistake. It's currently unfinished at 8,000 words, in four parts. None of these things were my intention.

In fairness, it totally fits one of the prompts, if you squint and tilt your head and take certain things very thematically. ...one of the prompts that isn't anywhere near the bingo I'm working on. But it fits into a series with two other prompts! ...one of which is on the bingo I'm working on.

Hush.

I feel like I could have had at least one of these fics finished by today, if I hadn't taken a weird left turn somewhere and found myself writing out 15,000 words of fiction where the US correctional system is a modern version of convict leasing, but on the plus side, I have 15,000 words of fiction where the US correctional system is a modern version of convict leasing!

Look, I never claimed to be good at this.


(I also feel a bit guilty about all those words, because I've totally been using fanfic as a way to hide from the stress of unemployment when I should probably be spending more of that time doing productive things. Hey, if anyone knows of a San Francisco Bay Area company that wants to hire a PHP/MySQL developer with a bunch of experience and an active interest in picking up new languages but no CS degree, point me their way, aight?)


Assorted Statistics:

• Card: http://magibrain.dreamwidth.org/520305.html


• Words written: 19,900


• Stories started: 8


• Stories finished: 0


• Potential bingos: 1! I've got one!


• Most organs titles harvested from a single poem: 3, but justified as the fics are all thematically related.


• Stealth badass award: ...damn, Ellen and Kate are going to have to fight for this one.


• Stealth adorable award: Peter. Aww, Peter.


• Best snark: "Hey," she said. "You should come over after work tomorrow."
  
  He looked up, questioning.
  
  "I'm serious," she said. "You can make us paella or something, Christie can flirt, I'll investigate your ingredients for contraband."


• Best snark via narration: Spoilers for 4x02, but: Which still didn't prepare Neal for seeing Peter in El Café Isleño, because what the hell, and even when Peter told him to run he couldn't just let him run, and also how in hell had he tracked him out to Cape Verde, and also what the hell? He was beginning to think he could flee to the International Space Station, and Peter would be on the next shuttle. Or possibly there without a shuttle.


• Best. House. Ever? Buddy Mazzati's mansion was absurdly out of place in its spot on Arthur Kill Road, where half a mile in one direction would take you to a pocket-sized strip mall characterized mostly by places for cheap manicures and haircuts and a shabby cash-advance storefront, and half a mile in the other would put you on a street crowded on either side with leafless, grain-gold trees that made it look like Staten Island was trying, badly, to be northern Wisconsin. Though, to be fair, the Mazzati mansion would look out of place in a neighborhood suited to mansions, and probably absurd anywhere: it had clearly started out life as a small Victorian, and then been added to by an owner in possession of more money than architectural sense: the north wing addition was clearly châteauesque, the south one flirted with the idea of becoming bay-and-gable, and then someone had stuck an honest-to-god spire offcenter on the back. Just looking at the place made Neal want to find whoever had signed off on the building plans and demand that they resign their position.
  
  Beside him, in the driver's seat, Peter turned off the engine and pulled out the keys. "Don't start."
  
  "We don't actually have to go inside that thing, do we?"


• Moral of the story: Life hates Neal Caffrey.