A bit I quite liked writing

Vera on being enslaved, in the FS sequel, Fait Accompli:

Trevor presents me to Illaria dressed in proper slave garments, basically a cotton pillowcase with extra holes and split side-seams. For my modesty, my master has so generously laced the split seams together again.

I can’t kneel in the damn thing without exposing my nether bits to all and sundry. I swear if I get out of this with my virtue intact, I’m only coming back with a navy.

I like being in Vera’s head. Unlike Shirin, she doesn’t want kids and she does want a lover someday (if ze can fit in the ship). Admittedly, writing someone for whom those are swapped has been a real mind-opener. Vera is also rather yang in temperament; Shirin, I am noticing, gets more yin by the minute.

If I ever have slash fangirls, I bet they’ll pair my women. It makes sense from where I sit. Shirin dislikes male attention to the point where she locks herself in a closet every time she goes into heat. Vera doesn’t care about something as old-fashioned as gender so long as the heart inside beats kind of like hers. Vera and Shirin both seek to protect the few people they call family, and they do have two in common, my canon gay couple.

I like the reboot in general, really. FS got bogged down, so I’m taking a holiday in the other leg of the Trousers of Time. If the first leg un-bogs, I can pick up where I left off because I’ve kept it intact.

Not had my meds yet. Oh, cock. (James May is a horrible influence on me. Next thing you know, I’ll be bobbing my hair.) Should do that, then, if I hope to be functional tomorrow morning.

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