| #309. Forgotten |
[14 Nov 2009|11:15pm] |
ooc: ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) tm_magik is used with permission and love. And hopefully I did her okay! Set earlier today!
All Sally Blevins wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep the day away. She wanted to surrender herself to a dreamworld and just not have to think about anything. Except that wasn't going to happen because she had responsibilities. The world didn't stop turning because your life was crappy. Cats still needed to be fed, children supervised, projects gone over and of course this business in the Morlock tunnels.
And really, out of all the current X-Men who knew those tunnels best? She did. Which meant she was the perfect candidate for this mission. Hell, it had been her idea and it needed to be done. Putting it off would probably only make things worse. Not to mention she might as well get it out of the way before moving back into the city. She didn't want to deal with James Keller and the Morlocks at the same time. That would be an unnecessary headache.
Sally knew the tunnel accesses around the city better than the one under the Xavier mansion but if you knew the codes, if you could read the maps that was all that mattered for safe passage. Almost.
She glanced over her shoulder at Illyana, grateful that the girl was joining her on this expedition. She'd seen her friend's Otherplace. It only seemed fitting that Sally could share this place.
( But so many people are looking to me to be strong and to fight but I'm just surviving I may be weak but I'm never defeated and I'll keep believing in clouds with that sweet silver lining )
Sally Blevins/Skids
X-men
1565
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| #309 - Recruit |
[14 Nov 2009|11:40pm] |
What have you forgotten?
A man walks slowly up a flight of steps. He is thin, his face lined, the hair just visible under his hat grey, his clothes old-fashioned and just a little worn. Still he moves with a certain impressive certainty of purpose; his eyes sparkle with intelligence and focus. He does not raise a hand, but the heavy iron doors swing open before him in perfect silence.
A young man appears in a blur in the entrance hall, and accepts his hat, gloves and coat, bowing and vanishing. A green haired girl with fangs slides out of the darkness to lead the way. A mountain of a man opens the doors for him, with mocking pomp. The old man knows them all -- he thinks this might be the point -- but he says nothing.
The person he has come to visit -- and the old man hesitates to think of it as a boy for all its youth, or even a man; he has never been given reason to trust much of anything and certainly not appearance -- is standing in front of belching fire. Red-orange-yellow light sweeps across them in flickering waves.
"Dramatic," the old man says dryly. It earns something of a smile.
He takes a seat close to the fire without being asked. The arm-chair is brown leather, warm and just soft enough beneath him. A pot of tea lifts itself, and the old man nods, watching it pour into bone china cups.
"Terrible weather, lately," the old man says, and sips his tea. It's rich and smoky, full of subtle flavours that he savours while he watches the other. "No? To business then. And what name are you using today, Mister Connor? Should I address you by title, perhaps? ( Hile rex; hile the Crimson King )
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| 309 |
[14 Nov 2009|02:17am] |
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What have you forgotten?
Sitting in separate vehicles, they watch her walk back through the grass, watch her stand there and unload the clip from her service weapon as if to ask why she ever had to make such a choice.
( Read more... )
Muse: Stark Patrick
Fandom: The X-Files (OC)
Words: 425
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| Topic 309 |
[14 Nov 2009|02:02am] |
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Her Diamonds - Rob Thomas |
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What have you forgotten?
Tosh is fairly sure that she's forgotten how to live a normal life.
Of course, there's a part of her that likes to tease and say that her life was never that normal to begin with. Not with being so buried in bits and bobs and devices, not with being so close to her parents, not with being so tongue-tied when it came to the opposite sex. There's a part of her that's pretty sure she would be abnormal even if she had never heard the word 'Torchwood.'
But she knows, now. Knows she will never be normal. Even if she were to quit (a thought that has surprisingly never really crossed her mind), even if she were to accept the retcon and forget all of her years and all of them (a thought that scares the hell out of her), it's just been too long away. She might not remember the aliens and the Rift and all of that, but would she remember her boring normal job? Would she remember how to talk about nothing?
Would she be happy working behind a desk or in a cubicle all day? Blissfully unaware to the whole other world that's out there?
She knows that she wouldn't really. There would always be that feeling of doubt and wrongness in the pit of her stomach, even if she would never know why. Tosh has forgotten how to live a normal life. Both by necessity and by choice. By necessity, because it will never be something she can attain. But by choice, because it stopped interesting her a long time ago. Maybe it never did at all.
Muse: Toshiko Sato
Fandom: Torchwood
Word Count: 274
Verse: Canon/Any
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| What have you forgotten? |
[13 Nov 2009|10:22am] |
Tony doesn't see it as being forgetful. Not really. Minds like his are not made to be forgetful; he just has a sort of selective memory. There are other things that he has to do, or think about, or manage. Sometimes he just prioritizes, and the things that he has to do at a certain moment may just be stored in some other part of his brain to be done later. Later than he's supposed to be scheduled for.
There have been meetings that he has "forgotten." Conference calls, emails to answer, people to meet. There have been post-its that have been left behind on desks, or work stations, or still stuck on the borders of computer monitors where he should see them, but he doesn't. Or he does, but he doesn't pay the attention that he should. There's always a project, some new thing he's building, a new aspect of the hot rod that he's fixing up. There are sometimes other type of "meetings," with one or more beautiful women, and well what is he supposed to do? It would be bad manners to simply leave them hanging. Tony Stark hates leaving something unfinished, after all.
It's Pepper the one that realizes and has to deal with what he forgets. She's the deal that has to deal with the aftermath, and trying to get him to do whatever it is he forgot to do. But now, even if there aren't just meetings or conference calls, there are missions that he has to fly out to, and people that he has to save.
The women, and sometimes the men depending on his mood... Well, those are always going to be a distraction.
But he doesn't see it as being forgetful. He just had something else that he had to do, whether he remembered about it or not.
Tony Stark
Iron Man
307
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| NEW TOPIC #309: WEEK OF NOVEMBER 13-19, 2009 |
[13 Nov 2009|01:02pm] |
The topic for the week of 13 - 19 November 2009 is:
What have you forgotten?
1. Put current season TV spoilers behind a cut.
2. Your post must be a minimum of 150 words to count towards your community membership.
3. Put posts longer than 450 words behind a cut.
4. Put the topic number and/or text in the subject header of your post.
5. Sign your post with your muse's full name and fandom.
Reminder: To remain current, you must have answered at least one of Topics #306, 307, 308, 309 by November 19.
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| Fireworks. |
[13 Nov 2009|02:22am] |
"Was it as good for you as it was for me?"
Chloe giggled softly at the question, as she snuggled against the man she was sharing a bed with. She was tired, completely and utterly sated, but it was all so worth it. She'd finally made love to the man who had oh-so-suddenly stolen her heart, and it was everything she'd dreamed it would be.
It was a silly question for him to ask, really. Her current state of comfort should have been more than an indication of how she felt. She was happy, blissfully so, even if it was fleeting, and it could all end tomorrow. It was just the way things in his world were.
She tried not to think about it, and grew quiet for a long moment, pretending to ponder his question.
Finally, she tilted her head back, and looked right up into those big dark eyes with the sweetest smile she could produce. It was genuine, one of her most genuine in months.
"Sam... it was so amazing, I saw fireworks."
He chuckled in response to that, and lowered his head a bit to brush a kiss over her forehead.
She let her eyes drift shut, sighing contentedly, and knew she'd be seeing fireworks for a long time to come.
Chloe Sullivan
Misc. TV (Smallville)
[Oh yay a crossover! The Sam mentioned here is, in fact, Sam Winchester of Supernatural, but this is in no way binding to any existing Sam muse out there. Just something random that came out of my head after watching too many episodes of Supernatural this week.
Please direct comments here.]
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| 308-Fireworks |
[13 Nov 2009|01:38am] |
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Fireworks
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( This isn't about fireworks. )
~
Muse: Selina Kyle- Catwoman
Fandom: Batman Universe
Disclaimer: This prompt is based on canon (BTAS) and not on role-play. The Bruce Wayne and Batman mentioned do not reflect on RP or TM based muses, although they are welcomed to comment. Thank you!
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| TM Response #308 - Fireworks |
[13 Nov 2009|12:33am] |
November 5, 2006
Fireworks weren't a common sight in Coventry. It wasn't that the people there were incapable of creating them; anyone talented enough in magic could fire off their own at any time if they so chose. But fireworks were instead reserved for special occasions, usually Solstice celebrations and anything related to the royal family. There had been fireworks at Aron and Miranda's wedding, Karsh remembered. There were no fireworks on the night that the twins were born, though there had been one hell of a display the night that the duBaer family had been reunited.
So Karsh was more than a little touched when Aron decided to acknowledge and honor the birth of his goddaughter with a fireworks display.
Smiling, Karsh looked down at the lavender-swathed bundle that he cradled in his arms. Nia Alexandra Antayus, who had born earlier that evening as the full Snow Moon rose in the sky.
Ileana was sleeping, at last, leaving Karsh to take their newborn daughter on a quiet stroll through the halls of the castle's medical wing. Camryn and Alex had already been by to visit, as had the Lord and Lady of Coventry and probably about half of the castle staff. So when the chance to finally be alone with Nia for the first time presented itself, Karsh jumped at it.
They talked as they walked; or, rather, Karsh talked and walked as he carried her while Nia slept. He told her about their family, about the girls and that Earth wasn't half as bad as some citizens of Coventry made it out to be.
And Karsh felt his fears about fatherhood start to dissipate like a firework after it had burst across the sky.
Muse: Karsh Antayus
Fandom: T*Witches (DCOM version)
Word count: 286
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| Theatrical Muse Topic: Fireworks |
[13 Nov 2009|05:39pm] |
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The fireworks were so beautiful!
They were loud and noisy and Carol Anne’s little nose wrinkled at the nasty gunpowder smell, but ooh, they were so pretty! Flowers made of red and gold fire, blooming in the air and fading away to a misty, ashen gray. Streams of shimmering white-hot rain pouring down from a black sky, while strange sounds echoed all around, still ringing in Carol Anne’s ears long after the fireworks display was finished.
Carol Anne knew she would be dreaming happy dreams of the fireworks that night. Even now, when she closed her eyes, she could see the brilliant glow of the many shining flowers in the sky. Drowsily, beginning to doze off in Daddy’s arms, Carol Anne wondered if there were really magic places, somewhere in the world, where the flowers were truly as beautiful as fireworks.
Even if there wasn’t, Carol Anne thought dreamily to herself, she could still imagine it.
Words: 156
Muse: Carol Anne Freeling
Fandom: Poltergeist
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| Theatrical Muse Topic: Fireworks |
[13 Nov 2009|05:30pm] |
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Mun Note: This ficlet is AU and RP-based.
John had loved fireworks when he was younger. Fourth of July picnics and then the displays of noise and light when it grew dark. Chinese New Year and all the excitement that brought… So much brightness and color, and the faint smell of gunpowder in the air. It was strange, wondrous and beautiful, utter delight for a small boy
And then, as a grown man and a father, he was able to enjoy the fireworks displays through his own children’s eyes. And still love them himself, remembering the little child he had once been and the fear and pleasure of seeing so many shining things and hearing the loud bangs for the first time. How old had he been then – two or three, perhaps?
Even now, John never missed a fireworks display, and the kids were never too old to want to come along too, to watch the explosions in the sky and enjoy the festivities.
Words: 156
Muse: John Kramer AKA Jigsaw
Fandom: Saw
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| #308 Fireworks |
[12 Nov 2009|11:54am] |
The smell of cut grass heavy on the air, the sky above a black silk cloth punctured by pinholes that allowed brilliant light to seep through. The dark transformed the park – what by day was a small and unimpressive square of grass broken up by a baseball diamond was by night a new country of rolling hills and unexplored valleys. Adults in lawnchairs were sat about, hulking shadows that didn't really understand the real nature of the place.
Heather ran with her pack of brothers and some of the neighbours. She was a knight, like in the stories her mother told her before bed. She was on a quest to save a dragon, because she had decided that killing a dragon was a rather stupid thing to do. Her brothers disagreed. But how anyone could want to kill such a fantastic creature Heather didn't understand.
Her father summoned them eventually, telling them it was going to start soon. Heather, snug under a blue hand-knit poncho, had almost forgotten why they'd come to the park in the first place.
“Now, you have to be very careful,” he father said. Her mother, holding the new baby, added, “No running!”
Each of the MacNeil children was given a slender rod, and their father light each one carefully with a match. The sparklers sputtered to life, and Heather crowed with delight.
She was busy trying to write her name in the air with the sparking tip when the first pops echoed across the park and the sky was filled with brilliant colour. She turned her face up, gawking.
“It's Canada's birthday,” her father had told them earlier that evening. And what a special thing it had to be, indeed, to set the sky on fire for it. And although she'd attend countless other Canada Day celebrations over the course of her life – sometimes even presenting before the festivities – Heather always felt that first remembered was the best.
Heather Hudson/Guardian II
Alpha Flight
329 Words
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| Fireworks |
[12 Nov 2009|11:13am] |
In the midst of the chaos, there were no explosions. No fireworks - only metal and sound. The blaring of the alarm rang in Jack's ears as it flooded his already overwhelmed senses. Again and again the blaring came, piercing into his brain as he attempted to remain alert during the pull from whatever had been released during the drilling. Small and large items alike caught themselves in the pull, a truck here, a wrench there.
He had time to wish that the pocket hadn't chosen the one time to be discerning after he threw his best hope for making everything right again into it without a single reaction. No explosion, that he would have welcomed. Instead he was rewarded with the dizzying noise, which in turn made him less and less able to dodge the flying debris. The final blow was a '77 toolbox which contacted solidly with his head and sent Jack to the ground in an unforgiving heap. Not moments earlier Juliet had reminded him of "live together, die alone". Jack was dead to the world when Juliet too became a victim of the electromagnetic pull. He never thought that the second half of his mantra would come true like this.
Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Word count: 204
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| [ooc] |
[12 Nov 2009|10:41am] |
Thank you to whoever just gifted me with more paid time! (And now I feel bad about how far behind I am, oops.)
I've turned anon-on and IP logging off for a bit if you wanna comment anon and ask me to write you something!
(To be honest, I only have IP logging on so I can see where I was when I posted a comment anyway; I wish there was some way to do that in everybody's journals.)
ETA: Also, someone spoil Dark X-Men for me. I don't get my comics for weeks/months after publication. :(
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| 308: Fireworks |
[10 Nov 2009|02:47pm] |
(308)
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Muse: Jennifer Keller
Words: 171
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| 308. Fireworks. |
[10 Nov 2009|08:06am] |
The transport was late. On the departure board, in little red letters, the word DELAYED flashed resolutely next to the 7:15 to Naboo. He stared at it; willing it to change. It didn't.
With a resigned sigh, A'den made his way into the cafe, bought a large caf and a pair of sweet rolls from a bored-looking human teenager, and took a seat near the windows. From there he could at least watch other transports arriving and departing. In the distance beyond the sprawling spaceport, he could make out the city of Daou, purple glass towers reflecting the setting sun. Beyond that was a river, and even further out, tiny lumps of gray duracrete that were massive industrial complexes.
For all their behavior issues, the Nulls were usually extremely patient. A'den, like the young businessman whose disguise he wore, just wanted to get off this particular rock. He checked his watch - yep, now he was going to be late to meet his brother - and watched as the seconds counted down towards zero.
Suddenly the little girl in the booth behind him exclaimed, "Look, mommy! Fireworks!" She slapped the flat of her hand excitedly on the window, nearly elbowing him in the head. As they watched, brilliant sparks in every color of the rainbow shot into the air far beyond the city.
"Ooh, fireworks," replied the mother, putting down her holozine to watch. "Pretty."
A'den watched the pyrotechnics, gazing rapt out the windows with everyone else in the cafe. It was a pretty neat display, and if they wanted to call them fireworks, that was fine by him.
A'den. Star Wars. 269 words
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