(no subject)
Dec. 20th, 2005 03:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shelley_wintersNot exactly a meme.
Just. For the general Winter holiday season, I am offering drabble/ficlets.
Fandoms are: Milliways, first and foremost - I don't know everything/everyone, but I know some. Er... Discworld, Scary go Round, Harry Potter, Buffy, Wheel of Time (bearing in mind there's still one book I haven't read), Newest Doctor Who, Artemis Fowl...
And some more. Ask me, I'll see what I can do.
Just. For the general Winter holiday season, I am offering drabble/ficlets.
Fandoms are: Milliways, first and foremost - I don't know everything/everyone, but I know some. Er... Discworld, Scary go Round, Harry Potter, Buffy, Wheel of Time (bearing in mind there's still one book I haven't read), Newest Doctor Who, Artemis Fowl...
And some more. Ask me, I'll see what I can do.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-12-20 04:05 pm (UTC)Any one of my characters from Shelley's P.O.V. - A Christmas drabble?
no subject
Date: 2006-01-09 01:15 pm (UTC)It had to be some kind of record, thought Shelley grumpily, sitting on a bed in the infirmary while the large blue doctor bustled cheerfully around. Three illnesses in the space of two weeks was pushing it.
"Has anyone else had this?" she asks dolefully, and sneezes.
"Bless you," replied Doctor McCoy, extending a box of tissues. "And no, Shelley, afraid not. So far as we know, anyway. You just seem to be picking up everything going recently, don't you?"
She takes a tissue sadly. "I know. Merry Christmas indeed..."
"Now, don't be like that. We'll sort you out somehow."
"Suppose."
She sits morosely, watching the blue doctor watch her as he takes her temperature with surprising gentleness for someone who looks so powerful.
"Hrmm," he pondered, looking at the result. "Well, it does not seem too serious this time. Possibly I know the very thing... come with me."
Sniffling and trailing the blanket around her shoulder, Shelley follows him out into the bar proper, sitting obediently down in a warm armchair.
She is presented with a large mug of steaming Christmassy hot chocolate and a twinkle.
"Far better than spending all the holiday in the infirmary," he smiled. "Drink up, Shelley. You should be fine in a day or two."
Finally, and almost reluctantly, she smiled back. "Thanks, Doctor."
"Call me Hank."
"Okay, Hank."
no subject
Date: 2006-01-09 04:35 pm (UTC)beautiful, dahlink!
no subject
Date: 2005-12-20 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 03:51 am (UTC)Christmas? Funny? Doomy? Romantical?
*grins*
no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 08:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-02 12:08 am (UTC)Do you hear the people sing
Those that could not made the best of it they could.
Lost in the valley of the night?
Often, their best wasn't quite enough. At the time of goodwill, the rich turned blind eyes on the hunger of the dirty little street children- that were, when it came to it, only dirty little street children in any case, an annoyance on the level of the rats. And they looked back at the unseeing privileged ones, and hate and a sense of injustice grew in the time of goodwill.
It is the music of a people
Gavroche watched the world, cold and hungry. It was wrong that it should be this way.
Who are climbing to the light
Somehow, it should be made better. One day it would.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-20 06:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-09 02:47 pm (UTC)Honestly. Of the Blood they might be, and high up at that, but none of the sons in this family were attractive at all. Not strong, either. The heir to the throne reminded her strongly of a weasel.
The girls were little better. One, the third daughter, was pretty, in a faded, wraithlike type of way, and walked with a grace that made her a promising dancer, but the others were rather sad, hunched things. And all far too thin.
The youngest child was worth bringing along, too. The skinny ones always made picturesque decorations around the place, and this one's shining brown-gold hair and wide, scared grey eyes carried a vague charm. Their father and the vacant-eyed female that had once been his wife kneel at her feet. She had had too great an influence on him. The removal of two of his daughters, and the calm destruction of his wife's mind matter nothing to this man now, not when his Great Mistress stands before him.
Assured of his undying loyalty - how can he be anything but when he loves her so deeply? Graendal opens the portal, sending her two newest decorations ahead of her.
All in all, a profitable day.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-09 09:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-20 09:33 pm (UTC)Barty... crossed over with either New Doctor Who or Scary Go Round. :D
Also, have you heard about Torchwood?
no subject
Date: 2006-01-03 08:52 pm (UTC)----
"Look, all we want are some directions. I think we took a wrong turn at Alpha Centuri..."
"...What the hell are you talking about?"
"Look at the map, kid."
"You travel in that thing? That can't be an effective way to get about, what kind of safety charms did you have to plough through before the Ministry accepted..."
"We are kind of in a hurry, if you don't mind. Charms?"
"Yes, charms."
"What do you mean?"
"...Don't tell me Muggles have advanced this far in just..."
"What are Muggles? Oh... hell. Doctor!"
"Oh, for the love of- Jack, get inside!"
Barty Crouch Jr watched in bemusement and no little suspicion as the strange blue box-thing began to flash a bright light at the top and fade from view, accompanied by a very odd noise.
Now that was just worrying.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-03 11:38 pm (UTC)Thanks!!
no subject
Date: 2005-12-20 10:43 pm (UTC)You know what I like. Enough said.
Thanks,
Rance
First drabblet of probably many
Date: 2006-01-04 01:35 am (UTC)And night, he realises, glancing out at the greying darkness outside. They had been up all night working on this latest venture. He had been absorbed, the details oddly reminding him of a piece of music he was writing, the intricacy...
It had been rather startling when Shelley suggested, slightly wild-eyed, that Elan Morin’s weakness was clearly hair products, and they should simply poison a cartload of non-frizz lotion and wintergreen mint toothpowder and parade it around the countryside as bait. She’d been drooping visibly against the couch, so with a gentle hand to her forehead, Joar had nudged her mind into sleep.
Sometimes he wondered if her tendency to be so flippant was her way of coping with the fear that he knows she still feels. Other times, he thought that his small wife was simply a little peculiar.
He carefully lifted her sleeping form – still so light, though he’d done his best to make sure she ate well – and carried her though to place her in bed. She mumbles something soft and incomprehensible before falling deeper asleep.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 01:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 11:33 pm (UTC)It's not that she's lonely. She doesn't need to be talking to the man beside her. It's polite, that's all.
"...And she was my sister, so of course I cared about her. But that man she married- The boy takes after him, it's all too plain."
The black-haired man looks sourly at the bartop. "Parents are all too frequently causes of their offspring's failings. Even if they left the raising of them to others, as may be the case."
"Absolutely."
"I commiserate if you are saddled with such a boy, Madam."
"I appreciate that. Do you have the same problem?"
"I am a teacher."
Petunia's lips purse almost as a reflex action. "I see."
They nod in accord - she looking down at her knitting, he glaring at the bar - for a short heartbeat of harmony.
After a moment, "I apologise, I am Petunia Dursley."
"Severus Snape," he tells her, after a pause.
And though he sounds anything but; "Charmed."
no subject
Date: 2005-12-24 12:08 am (UTC)Yayness! Amazingly kickass.
*dances for you*
no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 01:47 am (UTC)Please.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-27 02:30 am (UTC)In fact, they have a quiet but steady reputation for being just as efficient as their Guild brothers, and on the whole have a higher percentage success rate at stealth.
However, Faith Lehane still recieves some very stunned looks as she strolls cheerfully through the age-old halls of the Assassin's Guild, Ankh-Morpork. Her clothes... well, they are black. Some of the younger assassins blush palely under their sun-deprived skin.
Havelock walks along beside her, somehow being unobtrusive while in plain sight.
"So, those demon-things are not to be killed."
"Preferably not."
"Right. Now, Puck told me about some guy called Downey. Are you sure he doesn't need to be beaten up?"
"Quite sure, Faith. Though I thank you again for the thought."
"You're welcome. As long as the door to the bar shows up like you say it will. And I thank you for the tour of the city. It's an... interesting place."
"Indeed."
Faith snickers as they come into a long corridor.
"So. Which room is yours? And more importantly, how badly will Puck kill me knowing I've spent the night alone in your bedroom with you when he finds out?"
Possibly not reassuringly, Havelock says nothing.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 03:07 am (UTC)Stealth!Havelock overhearing Puck and Blodwen.
... because that won't actually HAPPEN, right?
no subject
Date: 2006-01-09 01:49 pm (UTC)He listens, to the click of the needles, and the two voices that sometimes overwhelm that sound. One soft and pretty, a lilting Welsh voice, though the listener is unaware of what or where Wales is. The other confident and young-sounding, and not, to those that listen right, quite human in the intonations, the sibilance on certain syllables.
The woman's voice is kind, her words innocuous, it would seem, but they bend the second voice so easily and perfectly. A tone of command so complete it cannot be heard, only noticed in the way the second voice obeys it's whims, though it may try without even realising that it is fighting.
The boy in the shadows can tell.
He knows something is happening, and he knows he can't stop it. The captive would try to stop him, if the gentle voice pushed him hard enough.
So he listens and waits until he knows he can do something, which is all he ever does, here, really.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 04:11 am (UTC)Or something Mercutio-flavoured. :D
no subject
Date: 2006-01-02 01:36 am (UTC)---
He sighs the long-suffering sigh of a man to whom this happens entirely too often.
"Look," he says. "I know how this goes. You threaten me with bodily harm, I like the coward I was born as, attempt to talk my way out, fail, get knocked about. Do you want to just skip to that?"
Rincewind is aware that the man slowly circling him could probably snap him in half one-handed - he has that rather wiry look to him while still being well over six foot. But frankly, the stronger they are, the faster unconsciousness is likely to follow, as far as he is concerned.
"Not gon' fight you," the creature - man sorry, where had that come from? - grins.
The technically-wizard eyes him dubiously. "If you don't mind me saying, that is not reassuring."
The man laughs, in a laugh that is half a cackle, half a hiss.
...It has been said that Greebo appeared to be the kind of man simply by sitting very quietly in the next room.
This is the first time he's attempted to use that ability while in human form.
He grins enticingly, showing far too many pointed teeth - while something niggles at the edge of his mind, suggesting that perhaps he's missed some kind of point.
Rincewind continues to eye him with a long-suffering expression.
Just his kind of luck.
---
Somewhere very far away, the Lady with all-green eyes smiles almost benignly down at her game-board.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-02 01:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-02 01:46 am (UTC)*Hugs, grinning*
no subject
Date: 2006-01-02 01:48 am (UTC)*removes firstborn from your influence stealthily*
no subject
Date: 2006-01-02 01:53 am (UTC)I shall corrupt the young'uns!
no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 04:12 am (UTC)I also adore Lanfear, but as haven't apped her yet, she's not really mine to request drabbles for. :P
no subject
Date: 2006-01-09 02:20 pm (UTC)There appeared to be small humans everywhere.
Everywhere was a bit of an overstatement, but there were a good few for Illyria, not used to having any around.
But powers, no powers, or somewhere in between, how hard could this be? The diminutive redhead, who had suspiciously quizzed her on whether she served the Dark One - her, serve? - before amiably agreeing to be a minion, seemed to be having no trouble.
With confidence, she examined the closest child. It stared up at her, as if she was the odd-looking one. Illyria raised a cold eyebrow. She wasn't the one that looked like a pink blob with floppy limbs. And she certainly wasn't... leaking.
Within about ten minutes, the children collectively decided, with some deep-ingrained sense of self-preservation, that playing with the red-haired girl between them and Illyria was probably safer.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-09 01:30 pm (UTC)Aeryn was at her wits end.
It was a place many found themselves around Jack.
Though, to be fair, this one wasn't entirely his fault. Entirely.
Not that either of them could really remember much. They both had spectacular alcohol tolerance, and so, like sensible people, they had decided to test exactly how good they were.
"...Frellit," she growled, after a few moments of inarticulate incredulity.
"Yeah," agreed Jack. "...What?"
"Swearword."
"Right."
The two of them regarded the slightly steaming controls. Didn't seem right that two living beings, with all the breakability that implied could take drinks and drinks and drinks, and the hoverbike broke when just one got spilt.
"S'shoddy craftsmanship, that's what it is."
"Should be able to take it's drink."
...
"Think we should start looking for a door back to the bar?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Might take a while. Can you still walk straight?"
"Shut up."
no subject
Date: 2006-01-09 03:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-09 03:20 pm (UTC)No trouble.
Like I say, I have no idea if characterisation's right. *waves hand cheerfully*