God protect me from what I want

and these places that you haunt

And These Places That You Haunt
Seems I'll never get away
From the bitten nails and the need to pray
Sweet familiar scent of danger
It's the constant pull of the stranger
God protect me from what I want
And these places that you haunt...

--Oysterband, "This Town"

This is a story about how stories begin, and how they change. It's a story about what lies under the surface. It is a story about how legends become legends - and who your legends really were.

And what happens next.

Also. This is a story by shadesong. This journal will be friends-only for copyright reasons; all readers will be added back. If you're not added back, poke me on my primary journal; I probably just haven't noticed that you're here.

This is a work in progress! What does that mean to you, the reader? It means that

a) you're getting unedited first-generation braindump, and
b) you should start reading at the beginning, calendarwise; remember that LJ posts latest-first.

I seem to have fallen into posting a snippet a day. So far.

Feedback is not only welcomed, it is greatly desired.

Oh! And it's also a Tam Lin retelling on the Vegas streets. Not the Strip. Real Vegas.