Cheryle (
blue_sweetheart) wrote2010-02-24 04:03 pm
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Prompt Me.
So, I'm bored out of my mind and need to write.
Here's where the trusty F-List comes into play. Pick a character from the list and prompt me. If you want me to add a secondary character into the drabble, have at it, just make sure you prompt. I'll write something out and reply to you with it.
The List is here.
Here's where the trusty F-List comes into play. Pick a character from the list and prompt me. If you want me to add a secondary character into the drabble, have at it, just make sure you prompt. I'll write something out and reply to you with it.
The List is here.
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Stem the tide.
Terrible drabble is terrible.
Ashe hadn't seen any of them since. Dalmasca was a busy place, and she had a kingdom to care for before worrying over visiting old friends. It was Larsa who finally convinced her to step out for a day or two. Assurance from others told her that they really would be fine without her, and she reluctantly agreed to pay a dear friend a long overdue visit.
Sado had changed since the last time she had seen him. He had matured from his awkward seventeen-year-old self, and she was sure she must have looked different as well. Three years was a long time, after all.
They didn't speak much. There were little discussions here and there about what was happening in their own world, how others had fared since they had all been sent home. Most of the time was spent in comfortable, familiar silence. There was no need to speak, really, so much as sit and smile and relax and remember.
If given the option, she would have stayed forever in those few hours.
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Calcifer gave an indignant puff smoke into the man's face, and crackled unhappily. "I'm not a fire for just anyone to use, especially for something as idiotic as marshmellows."
No reply. Captain Hammer was too busy checking his tiny reflection in the little wire hanger his marshmellow was staked onto. "Doesn't do me justice," he mumbled, before thrusting the stick out over Calcifer. A bit of marshmellow goop dropped down into the fire.
"HEY! HEY!! I mean it! The only one who's allowed to cook on me is Howl, and maybe Sophie, and sometimes neither of them!" Another glob of marshmellow.
The only warning was an odd sounding crack, and then Calcifer exploded outward, throwing Captain Hammer back several feet. The fire demon was pleased to see, as he settled down, that the "superhero's" clothing was still smouldering, and the marshmellow was fully ablaze.
Captain Hammer leaned forward, blew out the fiery marshmellow, and smirked. "Just the way I like it. You're a good little fire."
Calcifer was going to kill Howl for this.
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okay well just. pick one or the other I guess. Or COMBINE THEM, idk. prompt is:
Making paper cranes.
(B
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"Try it this way," Dorothy offered, and folded it faster than even Larxene could follow. A perfect crane sat in her hand in mere seconds.
Larxene zapped the finished crane out of the android's hands. "I don't need to be lectured by some overgrown doll."
Dorothy was completely silent as she observed the Nobody for a moment. At length, she leaned forward, pulled a new piece of paper out, and proceeded to fold it. "Perhaps if you try it like this."
Larxene all but slammed her head into the table.
ignoring the wrong account...
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Even so, Kitty never expected to answer a knock at her dorm room door and find Jacen on the other side. There he was, though, grinning down at her, obviously full of the same old excitement. He held up a piece of chalk, and that was the end of it. Kitty had grabbed her sweatshirt and they were on their way to the basketball courts in a matter of seconds.
“Alright, two is quicksand and four is lava,” Jacen revealed after they had drawn out the hopscotch squares. A similar set-up as before, but he had an addition as well. “And seven,” he said slowly, “is a pit of venomous snakes.”
Kitty nodded, and pulled two smooth stones from her pocket. She handed one to Jacen, and he tossed it out to land on 10. She grinned up at him. “Someone’s been practicing.”
Jacen shrugged, hopped out to retrieve his stone, and returned with a grin. “Your turn.”
They were out there longer than most thought it would have been possible to play hopscotch. There were plenty of stone exchanges, and by the end of it spaces two, four, and seven were covered in badly thrown stones. “Last one,” Jacen reminded Kitty as she prepared her final throw. “If you get this one, you win the game. No pressure.”
Kitty breathed in deeply and tossed the stone out. It was clear before it even landed that it would land on seven, and she gave a defeated sigh as it skittered to a stop. “Well, that settles that,” came the admittance of defeat. Jacen laughed. “Still gotta try to retrieve it,” he reminded her. She knew well enough, and hopped along to the end of the grid. The stone was snatched away from the imaginary snakes, and she triumphantly hopped back towards Jacen. She wasn’t paying attention, however, to square two, and just as she was about to land in the quicksand he had reached forward and snatched her out of harm’s way.
Neither of them could come to a decision on who had actually won the game. Kitty had done the impossible and rescued the stone from the pit of snakes, but she hadn’t completed her final hop. Eventually, though, a decision was made.
“Looks like you’ll just have to come back for a rematch.”
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ZOMG THIS WAS SO CUTE ;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~;
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Mal looked back at his mechanic, momentarily confused, before letting off a chain of swears in Chinese. “Man at the docks told me those were perfectly compatible with Serenity, that gorram--”
Kaylee shook her head. “Ain’t the batteries ‘M talkin’ about,” she replied slowly, as if that would get the point across faster.
A lengthy pause followed, and then Mal’s expression changed to one of slight horror. He blinked at Kaylee, but her nod simply confirmed the idea in his head. Another moment of awkward silence, and then Mal’s fingers flew up to his ears, and he couldn’t seem to get out of the engine room fast enough.
The mechanic simply laughed and went back to her work. Really, it shouldn’t be so much fun to tease one man.
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Um... Leslie.
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The ride home was agonizingly long, and when they finally stepped off of the bus Leslie whisked Jesse away without so much as a second glance at ___.
“I found, this morning,” Leslie eventually said, as they were about to cross the rope swing and enter Terabithia, “the lost feather of the long-lost mythical bird of Terabithia.”
Jesse, far more open-minded now than he had been before meeting Leslie, eagerly followed the girl to their kingdom, where she paused to listen to the forest around them. “It is said,” she began slowly, stepping forward as softly as she could, “that the old king betrayed his loyal subjects, and in turn the stoned him, and mixed feathers into his blood as he fled the kingdom. An old witch took the bloodied feathers, spread them into the wind and laid a curse over the king.” She paused, and began again in the smallest of whispers, “Until every last feather could be found and returned to him by those of royal blood, the king would remain in the forest, a shadow cursed to walk between worlds.”
She held the feather up to Jesse, and grinned. “I,” came the proud declaration, “have discovered the final feather, but as there are two of us ruling now, I cannot return it alone.”
Jesse smiled back, and nodded towards the deepest part of the wood. “What are we waiting for, then?”
Without a word, without so much as a change in expression, Jesse took off running. Leslie laughed and started after him, feather in hand.
Today, they would rescue a king.
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DON'T FEEL LIKE LOGGIN' IN AS ME.
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Perhaps he had saved a damsel in distress from an evildoer in a power plant. Maybe he had saved a child from a giant electric fence, and had taken the shock himself. And there was always the idea that he had saved a litter of puppies from the impending doom of an abusive pound. He wouldn’t say, and let the stories run wild and good all around him. He basked in the glory of it, as he always did.
No one ever stopped to ask the woman who had seen it all, who had smirked as he had been stumbled into the hospital. No onlooker caught the occasional spark that rushed over her hands, or the dangerous look in her otherwise empty eyes. None saw her slip behind the building, or thought to follow her. If they had, they might have seen her disappear into the portal, or heard the swear she let out as it closed behind her.
If only she had been able to kill the son of a bitch without blowing her cover.