Exdrabbleganza!
Nov. 23rd, 2006 04:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
st_aurafinaThis weekend ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lilacsigil and I gave our creativity a kick in the pants. We made up our own drabble prompt table with words randomly picked using dice and a dictionary, and matched them up randomly with characters from many fandoms, some that we know well, and others that we wish we wrote more for. There are twenty words and twenty characters shared between the two of us. I feel rebooted.
So ten ficlets in a range of fandoms. Spoiler warnings for: Veronica Mars S3, Supernatural S2, American Gods and Torchwood. Nothing rated over PG.
Blindness - Low Key Lyesmith (American Gods, 200 words)
Mrs Sisomphou had worked the desk at the power plant for twenty years – seen a lot of changes too. Paperwork was a serious business in the age of terrorism. When the new guy transferred down from Minnesota, heralded only by a fax from head office, she viewed his transfer papers suspiciously.
"Surname: Lyesmith." She stabbed it out with two relentless fingers. The stranger grinned and ran a hand over the orange stubble on his head.
"That's me." He had a gold tooth that winked in the fluorescent light. It dazzled Mrs Sisomphou as she peered at the given name on the form. She couldn't make out the writing.
"Just put 'Low Key'. Folks call me that."
The rules were clear; problems with the paperwork should be called through to the head office, but that gold tooth flashed, and Mrs Sisomphou's eyes watered.
"You're not from around here, Mr Lyesmith."
Mr Lyesmith patted her hand where it gripped the edge of the desk. "No, ma'am, though I do have family in the area. I'm hoping the time is right for a reunion with my son. You won't know him; lives in the forest. Always been a bit of a lone wolf."
***
Foxglove - Joyce Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 100 words)
Since moving to Sunnydale, Joyce had been unlucky with her social life. Making friends becomes problematic when your daughter associates with vampires. After the accident with Pat, the book-club had blacklisted her.
At the bookstore she picked up a leaflet for "Sunnydale Amateur Gardeners". It seemed safe – they met in a church, for heaven's sake. At midday. Joyce wore a summer dress. People settled in their seats as the first slide clicked in.
"Digitalis purpurea – the purple foxglove. Flowers can be dried and brewed into a simple tea…"
Joyce smiled at the friendly faces. This was going to be fine.
***
Hybrid - John Constantine (Hellblazer, 100 words)
It's not his fight, but John could never stay out of other people's battles. He finishes his pint then treads on a skin's neck and glasses a second. He should know better; the weedy shits never learn from these brawls.
They'll never understand; you can't measure the purity of blood in portions. John couldn't call himself completely human anymore, but here he is, pride of the British Empire, stamping on the face of a pallid little racist turd.
With calculated pleasure, he smashes a shaved head into the wooden bar. The only purity John believes in is purity of purpose.
***
Island - Henry McCoy (X-Men, 100 words)
Henry slid one claw through the plastic, easing the journal out of its wrapper. The American Journal of Human Genetics – just the thing to read over breakfast. He flipped it open, and a slew of leaflets rained into his lap – the AJHG was stuffed with advertisements targeting the discerning geneticist. Henry lifted one from the pile – a symposium in Bermuda. The list of speakers was formidable; Henry considered applying. Then he thought of sand in his fur, and the suspicion that some of the attendees might think him an exhibit. He placed the advertisements in the trash. Maybe next year.
***
Iron - Matthew Murdock (Daredevil, 100 words)
Karen liked to iron her hair straight. Even after Matt had bought her a pair of straightening tongs, she still preferred to use the iron. He worried that she would burn her face. She laughed, and said that it was worth it for high-fashion. In the end, they compromised. Matt would iron; she would direct.
Sometimes Matt forgot to clean the iron before he pressed a shirt, and he would wear the smell of her all day, hairspray and ammonia and charred fragments of hair.
He keeps one shirt folded up in his wardrobe that he will never wear again.
***
Saturn - Ellen Harvelle (Supernatural, 100 words)
Ellen didn't hold with horoscopes, or any of that planetary nonsense.
"There's enough trouble here on earth, without worrying about the goings-on of the planet Saturn," she said, yanking the astrology book out of Jo's hands and slapping Ash across the back of the head with it just as he mouthed the word Uranus. "If there's a monster after you, it's not going to stop and ask if you're a Capricorn or a Scorpio before it rips your head off. So keep your feet on the ground and move them real fast. And that's my prediction for success in life."
***
Rising - Ianto Jones (Torchwood, 150 words)
Lisa had been a rising star at Torchwood One. People assumed that Ianto felt slighted by her success but he judged success by different standards. He'd known that Lisa was special long before they did, because she always greeted support staff by name.
Once, at the staff Christmas party, Lisa was cornered by a tipsy Yvonne Hartman, who pressed her against the wall of glass and leaned in.
"I hear you're after my job!" she whispered conspiratorially. Ianto caught Lisa's desperate look from over Yvonne's shoulder, and lifted a tray from a circulating waiter.
"Drink, Madam?" he said, in his best butler voice. Yvonne took two glasses, and turned around to find Lisa gone.
Later, they giggled together on the stairs. Lisa sat on his lap, the concrete was cold through her dress. "We're going to make a great team," she said. "I can't wait to take over this place."
***
Stretch - Keith Mars (Veronica Mars, 100 words)
It was a tradition on Veronica's birthday to measure her height. She stood against the wall and Keith made the mark with a pencil. When she was six, she stood on a chair so she could do the same for him and Lianne.
"One day, I'll be as tall as you. That's how I'll know I'm grown up," she declared, and after that, Keith had to check she stood flat when he measured her, she so desperately wanted to stretch towards that mark.
Each time he lets the machine answer Harmony's call, he wonders what Veronica will stretch towards now.
***
Unite - Miranda Zero (Global Frequency, 100 words)
The cult leader stood quietly, holding stripped wires millimetres apart. Miranda Zero had been surprised to find that he was carrying the stolen nuclear material himself, but she had to agree that it was efficient. If you want something done properly…
"I'm here to negotiate."
The leader raised his eyebrows, but didn't speak. Miranda tested each word in her head before speaking; there would be no chance to edit.
"We want the same thing," Miranda said, stretching her hand out slowly to touch death in a metal cylinder. "Our goals are already united – let's make the world a better place."
***
Marry – Padmé Naberrie (Star Wars, 100 words)
Though her headdress belied it, Padmé's shoulders felt light. The campaign had been a success; tonight she only worried about starving before the investiture finished. The modal chant droned on, describing the legal minutiae of her coronation.
She made an adjustment of her robe, undetectable to any but Sabé, who moved her hand invisibly beneath her own voluminous cowl, wrapping her fingers around Padmé's arm. She was not alone.
A gong sounded, signalling the sequence outlining marriage. Padmé knew the words but did not embrace the sentiment. Marriage was for the old and static. It would never apply to her.
***
lilacsigil and I gave our creativity a kick in the pants. We made up our own drabble prompt table with words randomly picked using dice and a dictionary, and matched them up randomly with characters from many fandoms, some that we know well, and others that we wish we wrote more for. There are twenty words and twenty characters shared between the two of us. I feel rebooted. So ten ficlets in a range of fandoms. Spoiler warnings for: Veronica Mars S3, Supernatural S2, American Gods and Torchwood. Nothing rated over PG.
Blindness - Low Key Lyesmith (American Gods, 200 words)
Mrs Sisomphou had worked the desk at the power plant for twenty years – seen a lot of changes too. Paperwork was a serious business in the age of terrorism. When the new guy transferred down from Minnesota, heralded only by a fax from head office, she viewed his transfer papers suspiciously.
"Surname: Lyesmith." She stabbed it out with two relentless fingers. The stranger grinned and ran a hand over the orange stubble on his head.
"That's me." He had a gold tooth that winked in the fluorescent light. It dazzled Mrs Sisomphou as she peered at the given name on the form. She couldn't make out the writing.
"Just put 'Low Key'. Folks call me that."
The rules were clear; problems with the paperwork should be called through to the head office, but that gold tooth flashed, and Mrs Sisomphou's eyes watered.
"You're not from around here, Mr Lyesmith."
Mr Lyesmith patted her hand where it gripped the edge of the desk. "No, ma'am, though I do have family in the area. I'm hoping the time is right for a reunion with my son. You won't know him; lives in the forest. Always been a bit of a lone wolf."
***
Foxglove - Joyce Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 100 words)
Since moving to Sunnydale, Joyce had been unlucky with her social life. Making friends becomes problematic when your daughter associates with vampires. After the accident with Pat, the book-club had blacklisted her.
At the bookstore she picked up a leaflet for "Sunnydale Amateur Gardeners". It seemed safe – they met in a church, for heaven's sake. At midday. Joyce wore a summer dress. People settled in their seats as the first slide clicked in.
"Digitalis purpurea – the purple foxglove. Flowers can be dried and brewed into a simple tea…"
Joyce smiled at the friendly faces. This was going to be fine.
***
Hybrid - John Constantine (Hellblazer, 100 words)
It's not his fight, but John could never stay out of other people's battles. He finishes his pint then treads on a skin's neck and glasses a second. He should know better; the weedy shits never learn from these brawls.
They'll never understand; you can't measure the purity of blood in portions. John couldn't call himself completely human anymore, but here he is, pride of the British Empire, stamping on the face of a pallid little racist turd.
With calculated pleasure, he smashes a shaved head into the wooden bar. The only purity John believes in is purity of purpose.
***
Island - Henry McCoy (X-Men, 100 words)
Henry slid one claw through the plastic, easing the journal out of its wrapper. The American Journal of Human Genetics – just the thing to read over breakfast. He flipped it open, and a slew of leaflets rained into his lap – the AJHG was stuffed with advertisements targeting the discerning geneticist. Henry lifted one from the pile – a symposium in Bermuda. The list of speakers was formidable; Henry considered applying. Then he thought of sand in his fur, and the suspicion that some of the attendees might think him an exhibit. He placed the advertisements in the trash. Maybe next year.
***
Iron - Matthew Murdock (Daredevil, 100 words)
Karen liked to iron her hair straight. Even after Matt had bought her a pair of straightening tongs, she still preferred to use the iron. He worried that she would burn her face. She laughed, and said that it was worth it for high-fashion. In the end, they compromised. Matt would iron; she would direct.
Sometimes Matt forgot to clean the iron before he pressed a shirt, and he would wear the smell of her all day, hairspray and ammonia and charred fragments of hair.
He keeps one shirt folded up in his wardrobe that he will never wear again.
***
Saturn - Ellen Harvelle (Supernatural, 100 words)
Ellen didn't hold with horoscopes, or any of that planetary nonsense.
"There's enough trouble here on earth, without worrying about the goings-on of the planet Saturn," she said, yanking the astrology book out of Jo's hands and slapping Ash across the back of the head with it just as he mouthed the word Uranus. "If there's a monster after you, it's not going to stop and ask if you're a Capricorn or a Scorpio before it rips your head off. So keep your feet on the ground and move them real fast. And that's my prediction for success in life."
***
Rising - Ianto Jones (Torchwood, 150 words)
Lisa had been a rising star at Torchwood One. People assumed that Ianto felt slighted by her success but he judged success by different standards. He'd known that Lisa was special long before they did, because she always greeted support staff by name.
Once, at the staff Christmas party, Lisa was cornered by a tipsy Yvonne Hartman, who pressed her against the wall of glass and leaned in.
"I hear you're after my job!" she whispered conspiratorially. Ianto caught Lisa's desperate look from over Yvonne's shoulder, and lifted a tray from a circulating waiter.
"Drink, Madam?" he said, in his best butler voice. Yvonne took two glasses, and turned around to find Lisa gone.
Later, they giggled together on the stairs. Lisa sat on his lap, the concrete was cold through her dress. "We're going to make a great team," she said. "I can't wait to take over this place."
***
Stretch - Keith Mars (Veronica Mars, 100 words)
It was a tradition on Veronica's birthday to measure her height. She stood against the wall and Keith made the mark with a pencil. When she was six, she stood on a chair so she could do the same for him and Lianne.
"One day, I'll be as tall as you. That's how I'll know I'm grown up," she declared, and after that, Keith had to check she stood flat when he measured her, she so desperately wanted to stretch towards that mark.
Each time he lets the machine answer Harmony's call, he wonders what Veronica will stretch towards now.
***
Unite - Miranda Zero (Global Frequency, 100 words)
The cult leader stood quietly, holding stripped wires millimetres apart. Miranda Zero had been surprised to find that he was carrying the stolen nuclear material himself, but she had to agree that it was efficient. If you want something done properly…
"I'm here to negotiate."
The leader raised his eyebrows, but didn't speak. Miranda tested each word in her head before speaking; there would be no chance to edit.
"We want the same thing," Miranda said, stretching her hand out slowly to touch death in a metal cylinder. "Our goals are already united – let's make the world a better place."
***
Marry – Padmé Naberrie (Star Wars, 100 words)
Though her headdress belied it, Padmé's shoulders felt light. The campaign had been a success; tonight she only worried about starving before the investiture finished. The modal chant droned on, describing the legal minutiae of her coronation.
She made an adjustment of her robe, undetectable to any but Sabé, who moved her hand invisibly beneath her own voluminous cowl, wrapping her fingers around Padmé's arm. She was not alone.
A gong sounded, signalling the sequence outlining marriage. Padmé knew the words but did not embrace the sentiment. Marriage was for the old and static. It would never apply to her.
***
