Naming the Muse, 1/1, PG-13, Original by Nebula

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Title: Naming the Muse
Fandom: Original
Prompt: #11 - Orion
Warnings: Horror Comedy.
Rating: PG-13 for swearing.
Summary: A writer and her muse debate her name.

Wordcount: 1174

I swear to you, I have NO idea where this came from. It's a true story. I apologize for this.

Dedicated to all the writers who have muses. You guys know. Also dedicated to dollydani, whose comment is mentioned in this.

Concrit is, as always, loved and treasured and hoarded. You guys rock like a big rocking thing.

“What's in a name, oh what's in a name, what's in a name says I?” she sang happily as she tossed her purse into the corner.

“I don't know,” a tiny voice said near her ear. “You won't come up with a decent one.”

“I came up with lots of good ones,” she said, giving the little one a look. “You're just too fussy.”

With a huff the little one moved from her shoulder to the desk. She wobbled a little on her landing, reaching out to grab a pencil from the nearby mug that held them. She frowned as her nose brushed against the eraser, before turning back to the woman who was taking a seat in front of her. “You can come up with something better than...achoo!” The force of the sneeze knocked her back on her rear, and she pouted, glaring up at the woman.

“I didn't attempt to give you the name 'achoo',” the woman said with a grin. “And you look like a sulking Tinkerbell.”

“I do not!” was the obvious retort, and the woman rolled her eyes before turning on her computer. “I look like a sulking...someone. I don't have a name!”

“Sure you do,” the woman said, stretching her arms over her head. The machine made several odd noises, before finally starting up the familiar Windows screen. “You just don't like it.”

“'Bitch' doesn't count,” the little one retorted.

“Well, when you start hindering my writing...” the woman muttered. She ran her fingers through the hair near her ears, pulling it up as if into a ponytail, before releasing it and letting the red waves bounce along her neck.

The little one stood up with a smirk. “I can't help it if I'm fussy about your writing,” she said, before her smirk slid back into a glare. It looked like a pissy sort of frown, and the woman wondered if there was a word for that Glown? Frare?

“If you'd just give me a name, maybe we'd get along a little better,” the little one continued, unaware, for once, of the thoughts rolling around the woman's head. “I don't like being called a 'bitch'. You have a cool name for yourself when you write; why can't I have one?”

“Okay, fine,” the woman said with a sigh, pulling up a web browser. “But if I give you a name, you sure as hell better come when you're called.”

“Sure I will,” the little one said, her voice and face showing anything but sincerity.

The woman sighed but started digging for names. “How about Drusilla?” the woman suggested after a moment.

The little one sighed. “There's a reason I hate your obsession with the Buffy universe,” she muttered.

“Then quit giving me plot bunnies in it,” the woman replied immediately. “I think Drusilla would fit. You're a blood-sucking little fiend who's off her rocker.”

“HEY!” was the indignant shout. “I am not!”

The woman ignored her, opening a new browser and typing in a familiar address. “No LiveJournal!” the little one moaned. “You'll never go back and look up my name. You'll talk to those weirdos for hours!”

“Maybe one of those 'weirdos' can help me find you a name,” the woman said, glaring at her. “So shush.”

The little one grumbled but sat back down, picking at the fibers on the mouse-pad. The post was quickly typed up and sent out, and the woman switched back to her previous browser. “What types of names did you want?” the woman said, heading over to her usual search engine for names. “Grecian goddess type names, a modern name...?”

The little one thought this over. “A name like yours,” she said finally. “I like how yours is. I'd take it from you if I had half a chance of doing so.”

The woman rolled her eyes but edged back a little. She wouldn't put it past the little one to do it. “You want celestial names, then,” she said, typing in the search box. “How about...Cygnus?”

“The swan?” the little one said, before shaking her head. “Sounds too masculine.”

“Hmm...Boötes?”

“Are you out of your mind? Wait, never mind, of course you are.” The little one glared up at her. “Do you want me to be the laughing stock of the muses? Not that I'm not already, what with you as the writer...”

“Shut up,” the woman said. “We can go back to 'bitch'. It's got a nice ring to it.”

“Keep looking,” the little one said with a resigned tone, waving her arm with a sigh. The woman gave her a look but turned back to the page.

“Fornax?”

“No.”

“Hydra?”

“Are you implying something?”

“Lupus?”

“I'm not a disease. Or a ravenous wolf.”

“I'd say differently...Orion?”

The little one opened her mouth to complain, then stopped, thinking it over. “Hmm...the Great Hunter,” she contemplated, smiling at the thought. “It's a little masculine, but that's okay. The Great Hunter. It could fit.”

The woman's eyes widened in the horror of what she'd done, before she quickly clicked back to her other window. She refreshed her journal's page several times in rapid succession as the little one began warming even more to the idea. As the woman scrolled down the page, frantically searching for comments, the little one had already started pulling pencils out from the mug, examining their sharpness.

A link was provided in one of the comments. Desperately she clicked it, scanning the page of names. The little one had now selected a pencil, and was testing its weight in her hands.

“ASTRA!” the woman yelled suddenly, panting. She cleared her throat at the little one's look. “How's Astra sound?” she asked with a sweet smile. “It's like mine, isn't it? And it's very feminine and, um, Latin sounding. Very intelligent. You wouldn't be the laughing stock of the other muses this way.”

The little one thought it over, before nodding. “It'll do,” she said, placing the pencil away. The woman breathed a sigh of relief, resisting the urge to wipe away the sweat on her brow.

“You do know that Astra means 'star', don't you?” the woman said when the little one eyed the pencil longingly.

The little one's face brightened, her eyes darting from the pencil up to the woman. “Then there's no debate about it being my name,” she said cheerfully.

The woman rolled her eyes, inwardly relieved at having dodged the almost literal spear of Orion.

“Make a post on LiveJournal, tell them all about it,” the little one, now known as Astra, said. She smiled, nodding to herself. “Astra. I like it. Nice ring. Astra. Astra, Astra, Astra...”

“Can we work on one of my stories after this?” the woman asked. “You have a name now, Astra. So...feel up to it?”

Astra pondered it, before nodding. “Sure. After the post. I want everyone to know.”

“Right,” the woman said, pulling up the window to update her journal. “Everyone, please meet Astra, Nebula's personal muse.”

~Nebula