jmtorres | Meme

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Meme

So we'll be combining a thing and trying something new.

There's the drabble meme, wherein you write a drabble, then leave a request for another drabble, and someone comes along and gives you another drabble in the comment, leaving her own request after...

Then there's the thousand comment meme.

So we're trying for A Thousand Drabbles.

Hey, PotC pulled off something very near it. Why not me?

Probably should make the entry public so it's more... possible.

Anyway, my (double) drabble:

(late s4 Farscape)

Some nostalgia possessed John to ask Scorpius if he still carried the image of Earth, sixty years' travel distant. "You mean, Sebacea?" Scorpius asked.

"What?" John was floored.

"They had to come from somewhere." Scorpius held out a crystal. "Didn't you suspect? You look too similar for it to be chance."

Examination of the image Scorpius had produced showed it wasn't John's Earth. There were geopolitical shifts--cities that shouldn't be there dotted polar coasts; cities that should have been present were nowhere to be found. L.A., New York, D.C., Paris, Rome, Cairo, Tehran, Hong Kong, Beijing, Sydney, Tokyo--all the places that John was used to seeing from space as a spiderweb of lights across the dark side of the Earth. Gone.

But it was an Earth.

There were two explanations, after ruling out manipulation by Scorpius--and Pilot confirmed the file was archival footage, hundreds of cycles old. Either John's first trip down the rabbit hole had been to the far, far future, or else it had been to an unrealized reality.

John couldn't decide whether he preferred this universe to be the inevitable result of his own world's evolution, or whether he preferred it to be unreal.

My request: Witchblade, from the point of view of the blade itself.

ETA: Feel free to answer any request, even if someone else has already answered it.

ETA2: If you get into a huge story instead of a single drabble, don't let that stop you from posting it! Little bites are tasty, but so are seventeen-course feasts.

ETA2.1: If you want to drabble and have an idea that's not on the request list, go ahead and start a new comment thread with it.

ETA2.2: Don't forget to attach a request to your drabble! Requests feed the process!

ETA3: I'm going to start two lists, list of stuff people have written and list of stuff people have requested
ETA3.1 which will now be kept on my site rather than here on lj, because I realized if this gets anywhere near a thousand drabbles, the links will be more than a single lj-post can contain.

ETA4: April 2010: No, I am not updating the links on a six-year-old list from LJ. If you are interested in reading the drabbles, they are all in the comments of this entry. Some people even put header info in their comment subjects. Have fun.

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Passion. Passion in the blood, the reason for following the blood. Passion and power. Some have more, some less. Sara is passion personified. Driven. Without the proper fuel, Sara would burn herself out with her passion.

Her skin is warm and dry. She touches me more than she knows. And when she contemplates me, innocuous, resting on her arm, the intensity of her gaze burns. And I gaze back.

I am the coldest of metals, forged as a weapon to quench the flame of life. It is why I am drawn to Sara and her blood. Such fierce, all-consuming passion! She will last longer against my cold than anyone else, longer than any of my previous weilders, maybe. Certainly longer than any mere male could.

Her passion traps me, as I trap her. Her passion will keep her safe for awhile longer, but in the end, my coldness will win.

(Request Earth: Final Conflict drabble, Liam/Da'an pairing, heh.)

"You are bound," Da'an murmured, stroking Liam's jacket, "by flesh, but you can become fluid." He was standing close, his long hand flat against Liam.

"How?" Liam whispered.

"The key," Da'an replied, "is here." He cradled Liam's hand in his own. His illusory skin slid away, cupping Liam's hand in circuits of pure energy.

Glowing without and within: Liam's palm shone eerily. He felt lightning streak his arm, flush his face, raise hairs on his neck. Startled, he clenched his fist, extinguishing the light.

Da'an dropped his hands and sheathed himself again. "Perhaps when you are," he said contemplatively, "older."

(Request, Andromeda, Harper history)

All around Harper there was shooting, screaming. In the distance he heard what sounded like an orbital bombardment, felt how the earth was shattered by the impact.

“Seamus, quick! Get over here! Hide! Seamus! Now!”

His mother and father were frantically looking for a place to hide him, hoping he would be safe. They found the sewer entrance and shoved him into it just as the Nietzchean patrol marched up their street.

“Where is he?” The Kludge asked. His parents were silent. As Harper ran down the sewer, the last thing he heard were guns firing and his parents screams.

(Request, Stargate, Sam after Unnatural Selection)

A thread of green fire arced over the clip, and he was in. He pinched the corner of the flexi, cautiously. Dirt held it together. It cracked under his thumb, and he swore; then text flickered and ran across the top. A story, a story, this time. He pinched again: a field of stars, delicate as gnats, rose and swirled around a tiny ship.

He hunkered in the rubble, flexi on his knees. Remember and repeat, he could, for trade, for a good one. Twenty minutes, and he shook with cramp. His nose dripped. He sneezed, and the galaxy dissolved.

Cool. Say, do you have a request?

Harper had a half-brother once. He didn't live long.

He was too tall, thin as a beanpole but he kept shooting up. Over five and a half feet; that would have been evidence enough, even without his crooked, scarred arms.

The übers would have killed him if they'd seen him. They hated half-breeds as much as anybody, even though it was them who kept making them, kept taking kludge women and using them. When an über gave it any thought, he'd beat his victim to make her bleed away whatever she might carry, but if she stopped fighting back then it wasn't fun anymore and he'd leave her to die.

But it wasn't the übers who got Harper's half-brother--it was ordinary human beings. He hadn't done anything to them, didn't know who his father was, didn't know what he was. He wasn't special--he wasn't smart like Harper, or quick like Brendan, or pretty like Celia. He wasn't even strong like an über because he was starved like everyone else. He was just a kid, but they could tell he wasn't one of them, and that was reason enough.

His name was Killian, and he was eight years old.

(Yes, I am now answering my own requests. I can't see any reason why not to. Um, new request shall be--oooh. Babylon 5, the story of how Marcus lost his virginity (and why, if you want to time it before that Conversation with Lennier, he would lie about it).)

SPOILERS: "Be All My Sins Remembered."

===================
"Inside"
By Viridian5
===================

With his eyes closed, Harper could better feel the Eureka Maru's engines pulse like a heart beating, as if he lived inside the body of a great beast, part of it. Part of Beka Valentine's crew. After all the dreaming and struggling, he'd made it off Earth and into space. It hadn't even taken much work, since Psycho Bobby had screwed himself and all Harper had had to do was bring it to Beka's attention.

He was a kludge with prospects now.

Beka had mentioned having a *Magog* on her crew that he hadn't met yet, but since it hadn't eaten her yet maybe it was a different kind of Magog. The thought of a Magog anywhere near him made his stomach roil, but he could bear it. He could. Because he'd made it out.

By spacer standards, the Eureka Maru wasn't much, Harper was sure. The Maru was a freighter, a salvage ship, obviously put together out of spare parts, but Harper admired it for that, for being scrappy. Given how he'd lived, all of *his* work had been made of spare parts. Beka obviously had an emotional attachment to this ship, and that made him like her and it even more.

She kept expecting the closed-in spaces and stale air to bother him, but he'd lived in tunnels since coming to Boston. Hell, the Maru's air smelled fresher than those tunnels. She kept expecting him to need sky. He missed sky--what little sky he'd been able to see through the smog--but he had space now, endless and open. Free. Besides, she said that they went to planets for jobs sometimes, though she shuddered a little at the thought of being on a planet.

When Harper put his hands against the wall he could feel the thrum of the Maru working through his body, and it made him horny. It would be his job and joy to maintain this scrappy lady. He still salivated with lust at the thought of the port on Psycho Bobby's neck. Something that would let him get *inside* machines was something he desperately wanted. Someday he'd have one. He swore it to himself. He wondered what it would feel like to have technology actually inside his body, a part of him, its power running through his nervous system and brain.

"You look orgasmic, you little freak," Beka said.

Harper opened his eyes to see her standing there, framed by the interior of her ship. *Their* ship. "I take my jollies where I can get them, boss." He was home.

***THE END***

Request: A Gabriel and Ian Witchblade story. Not necessarily slash but could be.

Jeff pulls the final name from the torch and "Pick Boy" is read aloud. He seems so happy and excited to be leaving, but you know it's an act. That's why this was all taped earlier. Candace hugs you as Pick Boy dances around like a dork and does his damnedest to act happy that he's been kicked off the show.

She holds your hand as you watch him dance out of the studio and you put your bravest face on for the cameras. Once the cameras and the audience is gone, the tears will come.

And so will he.

(Request - Naruto, Sasuke/Haku)

Spoilers for the bridge arc.

***

Haku moves like molten silver, observing, learning. Sasuke's skin is smooth, like fine linen paper, so easy to read. Haku's needles write long lines of poetry in fresh, red ink, the paper tearing perfectly under his careful aim. Haku can read the twitch of muscle, the hitch of breath that makes the boy's throat jump. He can follow Sasuke to his destination before Sasuke knows to turn. He is so beautiful in his pain, his fury.

In this moment, Haku can almost love him, as much as he can love another.

Haku feels Zabuza's eyes on him, feeding from his energy, reading the love story he writes across Sasuke's flesh. Words meant only for him.

/Finish it./

Haku composes the final verse. The needles sink deep into muscle, straight to the heart of energy bundled tight and explosive within the small body. The boy falls.

Haku revels in Zabuza's pleasure.

request: Van Helsing, Werewolf!Victor Frankenstein/Dracula fic

Spoilers: "Thanatopsis"

300 words. 'Cos it's V.

* * * * * * * * *

Gabriel knew people, who knew people, who pulled a few strings so Gabriel could look at a few records. He had just enough strings to pull on his puppets that he could do a little clandestine research on his new stalker. He hadn't really had a stalker before; just over-sexualized yet under-sexed IRC acquaintances with a little too much time to run his name through search engines.

Nottingham wasn't even his stalker; utterly Sara's. Gabriel seemed to be getting some of Sara's run-off psychos. She could handle it; Gabriel wasn't so sure he could. In some cultures, the wielder of the Witchblade had been viewed as a goddess. Gabriel couldn't compete with that, nor did he want to. He just wanted to know how to stay alive long enough to figure out how to help Pez.

His research turned up some interesting things about Irons. He couldn't find anything about Nottingham on his own; he was practically Irons's lap dog, from the looks of it. Gabriel quickly blocked out the mental images that sprung up from that poorly chosen phrasing.

He went back to his research, hoping to block that out with cold, hard facts. From what he could gather on Ian's past killing/body-guarding experiences, he didn't toy with people the way he was toying with Gabriel. If he wanted someone dead, they'd die. If he gave someone a warning, they'd die. (And Sly seemed to have been pals with Nottingham; a handy fact that didn't help Gabriel in any way, except to fuel his paranoia) That was why there wasn't a lot to find about the guy; there wasn't anyone left to write about it.

Gabriel could've still been breathing because Nottingham thought he could help Pez. Of course, others had seemed to have died for the same thing.

Request: Corky and Violet Bound fic.

The problem with Violet was having a lesbian lover instead of a Mafia man did not make her honest.

When Violet was gone, the money was gone, the goddamn truck, the truck Corky *knew* Violet would ditch for something sleeker at first opportunity, was gone, all Corky had left was a beer to drown her sorrows.

"I can't believe I trusted that whore."

That was foolish: everyone trusted Violet. That was her talent, the way theft was Corky's. Dons hung on every sultry word dropped from her rose red lips. She assuaged Caesar's suspicions until he was completely fucked. She ensnared men with those dark eyes and convinced them she actually liked dick.

Hell, maybe she did. Maybe it was Corky she'd been playing for a fool. After all, men had hands and mouths. Violet probably hadn't even had to fake the orgasms she had with Corky.

Violet had wanted to escape Caesar. But had Corky ever been a person to her, or just a ticket to freedom?

Corky could never decide if she was being honest with herself about Violet feeling nothing, only manipulating her, or if she suffered the bitter lesbian's lament:

"I bet that bitch was straight."

(Request: Utena incestfic--pairing of your choice, heh.)

Marcus was the first of the new type of clones of the great yet psychotic Ian Nottingham. Vorschlag branched out of Somewhat Evil And Quite Obsessive Killer and Really Evil Killer into the Heart of Gold, Bad Sense of Humor, And Still Quite Obsessive Killer. One of the SEAQOKs was Marcus's brother, because the psychologists wanted to observe both lines interacting with each other, and with the general populace. The line had been begun to have a counter to the Destined Wielders, for reasons lost to history according to the geneticists.

The clones told the other clones the truth: the first time around had been complicated, but after Ian Nottingham and Sara Pezzini had almost hit it off, they were potential mates for the Wielders should their tragically unrequited love ever be returned. It frequently led to the death of the clones. That's why the geneticists and psychologists kept it from the clones.

When Marcus learned of this rich and incestuous history from his "brother"; he found the first girl that was nothing like a potential Wielder and boffed her. It wasn't particularly good. Still, he swore he wouldn't fall for a Wielder. His brother hadn't, but he was a direct clone of Ian, unlike Marcus.

When he met Susan Ivanova, he understood everything. He fell in love immediately, then realized she was the next Destined Wielder. He tried to tell himself that her genes weren't as close to his as they would have been if he hadn't been modified. That didn't quite work.

He tried to reclaim his virginity then, recapture what he'd wasted on someone who wouldn't appreciate it. Sara hadn't appreciated Ian until he died for her; which the clones weren't supposed to know about, yet somehow did.

Ivanova would realize what Marcus meant to her, someday.

Fight Club: Tyler/Marla.

Harper lost his virginity by accident. That's the way he always thinks about it. He was fourteen when he woke up with a cold hand wriggling through the layers of rags wrapped around him. The hand belonged to one of his mother's friends, a skinny woman with grey in her hair and a foul mouth. He could smell the harsh fumes of 'shine on her breath and in her clothes. Buy the time her hand got through to his cock, it had warmed up and Harper was wide-awake. He tugged up her skirts and climbed on top of her, and then it was all over. She cursed him and shoved him off, and in the morning she was gone.

Request: Buffy, Andrew/Warren

brain made of cheese

Request: Firefly, Inara history

Inara wanted to be a teacher. She loved school: asking questions was encouraged, and she was never told to 'hush her prying mouth'. Being a teacher meant knowing all the answers, and Inara wanted to know everything. 'Why was the sky blue?' 'How did the big ships stay in the air?' 'Why did green apples make her sick when the red ones didn't?'

Then one day her teacher told her she had a great opportunity. She could have as much school as she wanted, forever. She'd have to leave her mother, and go to school in the city, but she'd never have to work in the farm centre, or spend another day dirtying her hands oiling the big harvesting machines.

Inara didn't look back when she left.

D'oh. Forgot my request.

Cross dressing, any fandom.

Because Farscape has canonical cross-dressing! 4th season.

**

Crichton looks in the mirror and winces. God, he makes a butt-ugly woman. He's never going convince anybody. Whose stupid plan was this, anyway?

And yet, somehow, he can't take his eyes off the image. John Crichton, wearing a dress. Of all the strange things he's seen in this universe, why is it this one seems so... What? Disturbing? No, that's not it, not really. Maybe it's just that it's familiar strangeness. Sitcom strangeness. Almost comforting, somehow, after the sci-fi nightmare his life's become.

He turns to Rygel, the dress swirling around his legs. "Come on, Bosom Buddy. It's showtime!"

**

My request: More Farscape. Scorpius/Braca

First of all, Hey MaryAvatar! Good to see another ExIsler here! :) Now, bear with me, this is only my second attempt at this.

**

It was sunny, almost too sunny. A light breeze was stirring the leaves of the trees above. Andrew had been here many times as a child, and now he was sharing his sanctuary with someone special. His parents always told him he was worthless, but watching Warren smile down at him, Andrew felt safe.

Suddenly, the sky grew dark. Thunder erupted from above him, Lightning struck the ground close by. He shrieked, scared. Then it happened. A bolt raced from the clouds, striking Warren. As his body fell to the ground, Andrew heard the voice whisper: "Desde abajo te debora".

**

(Request: Farscape, Sikozu/Scorpy)

Hrm. Not quite sure if this is what you wanted...

The dreams are never as bad now as they were five years ago. Sam Carter can in fact go for weeks without seeing someone she's killed.

Whole months can go by where she kills and kills and kills, and there isn't a peep from her subconscious.

She's fighting for her life out there, in a universe that's becoming increasingly dangerous. And her mind has adjusted.

But she really expected these. Because he'd reminded her of Orlin and Daniel and Jonas rolled all into one.

And Fifth promises retribution.

She should have expected that from a Replicator.

[request: X-Men, Bobby Drake]

Man, this is fun! OK, here's another one...

**
COMPLEMENT

He likes to be rough. She likes that, too, likes to feel the strength and power in his hands. It's a strange sort of thrill, knowing that he could rip her fragile limbs asunder almost without effort. And a strange sort of comfort, knowing that he won't.

She likes to be gentle. Likes the look of surprise on his face, as if no matter how many times she offers him a soft, loving touch he never expects it.

Rough and gentle, hard and soft, comfort and thrill. This is what they are to each other.

And she is very glad.

**

My request: Blake's 7, written from the POV of one of the computers.

For a while, it was good. Violet wasn't the best lay Corky had ever had, but she came damn close. (Pun intended.) And, for a while, they trusted each other. It only made sense, at first. They'd gotten away with taking money from the Mob, the Business, whatever the fuck you wanted to call them.

Violet could trust that Corky wasn't going to betray her, because Corky wasn't the one with the plan. No one would believe Corky if she said so; she'd just get two to the head.

Corky couldn't trust Violet, but for a while she didn't care.

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Page 1 of 13

Meme

"Passion" Witchblade, POV - blade itself, 150 words

EFC drabble, Liam/Da'an

Andromeda Drabble, Harper's History

little Harper history drabble

Re: little Harper history drabble

Andromeda, Harper's brother (double drabble)

Harper history: "Inside"

Re: Harper history: "Inside"

U-Pick Live drabble - Pick Boy/Antonio

Naruto - Sasuke/Haku

Re: Naruto - Sasuke/Haku

Gabriel and Ian triple drabble

Re: Gabriel and Ian triple drabble

Bound: The Problem With Violet (double drabble)

All Love Is Unrequited

Re: All Love Is Unrequited

no subject

Re: little Harper history drabble

Inara

Re: Inara

Farscape cross-dressing drabble

Buffy, Andrew/Warren

Re: Andromeda Drabble, Harper's History

Farscape: Sikozu/Scorpy

For A While, drabble