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ways_back_room2012-09-29 12:59 am
boston_bruiser) wrote in ways_back_room2012-09-29 12:59 am
Entry tags:
Weekend Entertainment
Since bjornwilde is out for the weekend...
...I'M STEALIN' THIS SHIT.
Again.
It's a weekend. In September. And we all know how busy those are.
(Not very, in my experience.)
So let's spice it up with a DE courtesy of our very ownsaphyria:
Write a short-as-you-please piece exploring what would happen if your pup were from some other canon universe than his-or-her own. Would your high-fantasy adventurer have fought for the Alliance or the Browncoats? Would your super-hero type have made a good hobbit? Likewise, what would your hobbit's cutie-mark be? How would your time-traveler defend their claim to the throne of Westeros? Does your character's high school drama translate well into pre-revolutionary France?
I'll join in after my kickboxing class this afternoon, natch.
bjornwilde is out for the weekend......I'M STEALIN' THIS SHIT.
It's a weekend. In September. And we all know how busy those are.
(Not very, in my experience.)
So let's spice it up with a DE courtesy of our very own
saphyria:Write a short-as-you-please piece exploring what would happen if your pup were from some other canon universe than his-or-her own. Would your high-fantasy adventurer have fought for the Alliance or the Browncoats? Would your super-hero type have made a good hobbit? Likewise, what would your hobbit's cutie-mark be? How would your time-traveler defend their claim to the throne of Westeros? Does your character's high school drama translate well into pre-revolutionary France?
I'll join in after my kickboxing class this afternoon, natch.
Psych/Avengers
At 7:38 on a Sunday morning, someone knocked on his door. Actually, pounded was a better description. Shawn grumbled and stuck his head under his pillow. He was far too hung-over to deal with this. The pounding persisted, however.
“Nobody here but us chickens.”
More knocking. His neighbor's dog was going crazy.
“Bawk.”
“Mister Spencer, if you don't open this door I am authorized to come in and get you.”
What the hell? He hadn't broken any laws lately, at least as far as he was aware. Unless all those unpaid parking tickets counted...
“Mister Spencer...”
“OKAY, fine, I'm coming! Geez.” After a few moments scrambling, he opened his front door to find a tall dark-haired man in a non-descript black suit, surrounded by several equally non-descript flunkies.
“Whatever it was, I didn't do it.”
The man was unamused. “Mister Spencer, I'm an agent of the government agency known as SHIELD. I'm here to offer you an.... opportunity.” There was a sour look on his face, like the words left a bad taste in his mouth.
The remainder of the conversation happened over several industrial-sized mugs of coffee as Agent Lassiter laid his cards on the table. Apparently this agency, whatever it was, was looking for people with special talents, and Shawn's particular gift had landed him on their radar. (He could almost hear his father's voice in his head, nagging him about keeping a low profile.)
“So that's it? Sign my life away for a chance to change the world?”
“More or less.” Lassiter snatched the coffee cup from his hand and finished the drink before Shawn could protest.
“Tempting.” It really was. He'd been pretty much drifting since high school, and there wasn't much tying him to this place. Except for the one thing he couldn't stand to leave behind.
“Can I just... ask for one small favor?
Gus was busy packing his sample case later that morning when he felt the familiar tickle in the back of his mind.
I'm busy, Shawn. What do you want?
Dude. He could practically see his best friend's stupid grin. You are never gonna believe this.
Re: Psych/Avengers
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Jan, currently Janet van Dyne and the last of that family name if you felt like trusting her paperwork, leaned back and eyed her sketchbook. Fashion Week was coming and she was going to take at least part of the world by storm. Once she figured out how to get the look she wanted without silver that is.
I’ll have to ask around, she thought as she reached back for her red beer, The beeps were doing wonderful things with alloys now in the twentieth century.
Empty.
Well, it was time to hit the streets anyway. You couldn't live on red beer, and it had been a few weeks since she'd seen Hank. Plus, he'd been taking the iron supplements. It really was time to see if they were doing any good.
Glass shattered as robots, evil robots, stomped across the street.
Ako hunkered down and tried no to think about just how much work this was going to be to clean up.
Not that there seemed to be much chance to fix these sorts of things lately - HYDRA was in full vengeance mode as far as Stark Industries and it’s employees as far as she could tell.
And apparently really sloppy on telling who they should be going after. That’s an elementary school at the end of the road, not another Stark Industries subsidiary.
Well, she thought, It has legs, and I’ve seen enough sports injuries to know one thing for certain. There are an awful lot of ways to wreck a joint.
SHIELD finds her screaming about HYDRA and jerks after the battle everywhere else has stopped, leading the robot in a mad scramble around a small plaza. Once they stop the robot and take her in for debriefing, Ako wonders if, just maybe, she couldn't have another try with the robot instead.
”All right class settle down please. Settle down please girls.
The excited jabbering continued from the thirty odd teenaged girls in front of him as Robo narrowed his eyes.
And very calmly, reached into a bag on the floor next to his lecture stand.
CRACK!
In the silence following Robo set aside the meter stick he’d used as a noise maker and began speaking again.
”Hello girls,” he said, ”My family name is Tesla and I will be instructing you in physics for this semester. I’d just like to take a moment and mention that anyone working for a group that wants to take me apart and study me will be flunked. No exceptions.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not what I signed off on,” she says leaning in the doorway looking in at the computer lab. In a sort of punctuation, the stack rising out of the central tower, what she hopes in the central tower of the latest server cluster vents heavy steam into the light of red LEDs.
The newest TEAM Industries intern popped up from under a desk waving his hands, “Artemis, wait. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.”
“And it might even be true. Look, your design runs on a computer that looks like it wants a sacrificed baby before it prints off your email.”
“Phase change heat venting. It lets us get another factor of two out of the overclocking.”
“Just. Look. Tim, you’re a bright kid, but I’ve been doing this for years. You took your grant and built an evil computer. You’re on probation.”
“Aww.”
“Excuse me! Excuse me! Green Arrow? Tyler Darrow, Star City Echo. Could you answer a few questions?”
“Superman made the speech, I don’t know what I could add to that.”
“Nothing even in the face of an official visit from an alien race who will only meet at night? Who show superhuman speed and stength casually?”
“Nothing. Supes is the better public speaker. Now excuse me, I have a city to get back to.”
And now, bonus MM mashup content. Space Pirate Heist Society.
The lighting was terrible, it was traditional. You can’t have these sorts of meetings and actually be reliable if you have them in a well lit boardroom. That’s where untrustworthy people had them. Like lawyers.
“Our target is here: Henley Station.”
“I’m sorry Kat, did you say Henley. As in the Henley?” asked Gabrielle.
“They have the best security this side of the Galactic Empire. Roving patrol wings. Their own farms,” added Angus.
Leaving Hamish to sum it all up,“No one’s ever taken the Henley.”
“And that’s why we’ll be the first. Besides, what we’re after isn’t on anyone’s cargo manifests. They don’t even know they have it.”
They paused when deserts were brought in. That too, was traditional.
Hale leaned back from the remains an angel food cake slice, “Well, what’s the edge then?”
Kat smiled. “I have someone no one would suspect on the inside.”
Eyes flicked around the table. This was the whole crew, the family young enough to follow Kat. Everyone they'd been involved with really, except...
“Oh no, Kat, Not-”
...
“Nick Bennett, visiting for pleasure,” he said handing over a small, folding, holographic projector that contained a perfectly valid ID code and background information. Assuming they didn’t check higher than the sector records.
“And how long will you be here Mr. Bennett?” asked the board voice of the clerk.
“Oh, at least a week. Maybe some more if my accounts can stretch.”
ALL THE POTTERVERSE AU
Hagrid always says that, and Claudia has yet to decide what possessed her to take Care of Magical Creatures (other than she's had more than enough doom and gloom in her life for Divination to be of any interest, and Muggle Studies sounds too much like a nature documentary to do any good at all). But there she is nonetheless, hoping this surprise isn't partial to teenagers in its diet.
He disappears into the forest, and returns, apparently empty-handed; a few people in the class look disgusted or horrified, and Ruby Lucas looks like she's going to throw up, but most of them look just as confused as she does.
"Now," Hagrid says, waving a hand at the empty space to his left, "this here's a thestral. I'm not expectin' most of yeh to be able ter see it - can anyone tell me why that is?"
"It," Ruby says, gripping the edge of her red cloak (how she got special dispensation for that, Claudia has no idea) like it's the only thing keeping her upright. "You can... only see them if you've. Watched someone die."
Claudia's eyes go wide, and she's sure several people have looked to her after that declaration (so sad, what happened to poor Joshua, so talented and all his sister had left in the world to boot, this is why Apparation experiments are so tricky), but she just stares at the void to Hagrid's left and what it means to her.
If you've watched someone die. She sure as hell watched her brother disappear without a trace, but if she can't see the thestral...
If she can't see the thestral, then she's got some work to do.
(Also, in case anyone was wondering and hasn't seen Hogwarts AU/Sorting DEs: Claudia's a Hufflepuff, to the general surprise of those who knew her brother and know that she was smart enough to keep up with him, and Ruby's a Gryffindor [and still a werewolf].)
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First off Will works incredibly well in Hogwarts and the AU!Hogwarts' game and threads in the sandboxes are some of my favorites. I'll try and come back and write some of that.
I actually wrote an entire story that was putting Sameth into the world of the Hunger Games. It's pretty depressing and warning for death and violence: Victor's Son.
I have this idea for a rather epic crossover/AU of William and Thalia where Percyverse is moved back to the turn of the century and there's a school for demigods outside of New York. William gets a scholarship to the school and there's his interaction as well as when they're older Indiana Jones' type adventures. The gods stuff isn't quite as key in it but the idea is how could I make those two connect and it got away from me.
That's all I have for the moment, but I may return with more as I love this idea, my writing brain is just a bit off at the moment.
Oh another one I've had thanks to Jill's awesome playing of Warehouse 13 pups is I've had ideas of Charles in that world.
VBN/Dr. Horrible, with a dash of TF2 and Blazing Saddles
Cata rolls over and blinks at her phone a few times before managing the right swipe to pick up the call. "What do you want, Sam?" (She knew it was Sam from the ringtone; he can't stand the reminder of his... issues with his father, which is exactly why she's left it there).
"Stumbled into an opportunity," he says. "I thought you might want to get in on it."
"At three in the morning, this better be one hell of an opportunity. What is it?"
"You know my cousin?"
Of course Cata knows Sam's cousin; most anyone with an Internet connection and more than a passing interest in things that aren't Captain Hammer's ideology know Sam's cousin, at least by reputation. "The one who thinks Bad Horse is a benevolent dictator?" she says, just to make sure they're on the same page.
(The nice thing about the Guild not really being affiliated with either side is that its members don't have to put on the same public face the League does. Bad Horse has made it clear more than once, via singing telegram, that he doesn't like the arrangement, but the Guild's been around even longer than the Heroes' Council, never mind Hedley Lamarr's first League.)
"One and the same. I don't think he has the heart to do what he's backed himself into doing, so I figured I'd help him out. I might not even charge him, but if you want to, he does have that stash from the Trans-Matter ray..."
Cata makes a face. "Semiliquid gold? No thank you. Tell me more."
He does, and he was right; that is one hell of an opportunity. She suspects he's mostly interested because of the blow it'll deal to the Heroes' Council and, by extension, his father (one day, they'll find a way to get Mizzamir out of the picture for good), but it still sounds like fun. Not to mention, Sam looks enough like his cousin that Captain Hammer will take what he's seeing at face value, right up until it's too late.
"I'm calling some backup," she says.
"By all means, call your boyfriend. He'll probably be good to have in on this regardless. We don't have long to get this together, though, or I'd have waited till morning, but if we can get this done by tonight--"
"Right, that stupid shelter thing. All right. But don't call me again tonight unless it's an actual emergency."
After they hang up, Cata weighs her options, then decides, what the hell. She's awake now; she might as well not waste it. Worse comes to worst, she can always leave a message. So she pulls up her phone's contact list - such as it is, when there's only two people on it - and dials the second number.
Medic picks up on the third ring. "Zis had better be good," he says, sounding just as grumpy and half-asleep as she's sure she did when Sam woke her up.
Cata smiles. "Oh, it is. Want to help us kill Captain Hammer?"
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Apollo's not playing. Sorry.
Imp would, in the Warehouse 13 'verse, be yet another victim of Robert Johnson's guitar. Whether he's on the 'dead at 27' list or not is another question, but that's what he'd be.
Regulus would fit well into the Downton Abbey 'verse, from what I know of it, but I don't know it well enough to write anything.
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Tony Stark's Butler
But it did. Yet more vehicular damage in the garage. Mr Stark should possibly consider somewhere else to be testing new stuff. But when you've been captured by an unknown force, held hostage in order to build a new weapon, forged your own escape via an armoured suit, nearly dying of dehydration before friends pick you up, he supposes one can be excused for a few eccentricities.
So, he wanders down there to investigate what it was that set off all the alarms and caused damage to the bonnets of the Lamborghini, Ferrari and Maserati. He meets Miss Potts on the way down, evidently also having the same thought.
When they get down there, Tony's evidently been tinkering with something. However, he's also nowhere to be seen.
"Check the security tapes?" He suggests, glancing at Miss Potts.
Within a couple of minutes, they're perusing the past hour's footage from the Garage. Well, that's interesting...
Re: Tony Stark's Butler
Re: Tony Stark's Butler
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"Jeezus Christ!" he spat. "You gotta be kiddin' me. Don't you assholes realize that you just can't walk into Mordor like it's your goddamn living room? I mean, what the hell d'you think is out there, huh? Just a couple lousy orcs? Yeah, y'know what, screw that. There's some goddamn evil shit just waitin' to fuck you up, okay? And that Eye ain't never gonna stop watching your sorry asses. Believe me, there ain't nothin' out there. Fire, ash, dust; the air is goddamn poison. You wanna send in an old guy, a couple midgets, and Blondie here? Go 'head. See if I care. 'Cause y'know what? This's a shitty idea, and you're all morons."
Needless to say, Tommy didn't make it into the Fellowship.
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Legolas: "There is a fell voice on the air."
Tommy: "...The hell does that even mean? Y'know what, just shut your pointy-eared face."
Legolas: "A shadow and a threat have been--"
Tommy: "Swear to god, I will shove that bow up your goddamn ass."
Legoals: "A red sun rises; blood has been spilled this night."
Tommy: "Alright. That's it. The only blood that's gonna be spilled is yours, elf-boy. C'MERE."
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I would go to the midnight showing of this movie on opening night.
I would go in costume.
It would be AWESOME.
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Jessica Drew as a Hollywood Gumshoe
"You sure you're up for this? Once you start, there's no going back," her best friend said around a mug of coffee. Carol Danvers, the voice of reason in Jessica's crazy world and the best right hook outside of a boxing ring west of the Rockies. "This is a job for the Army Air Corps not some small time PI. If you're right, these yahoos are Nazis and they don't play nice."
"Doll, I've never played nice and I've never shared a case. You wanna fly free, it's your call. No hard feelings."
"Girl, you can't really think I'd leave you to face this alone."
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Lois is that daughter of a high-ranking Alliance official. Does her journalism thing, but she's honest about it, not buying into the (thank you Mr. Universe) 'puppet theatre for a somnamublent public," and then finds out a few too many secrets. She'd try to make that public knowledge as she could from the central Alliance planets--she's a city girl--but she'd probably have to end up running.
(Side, MM note: I'd do Jason, but with Lois and Clark and history he'd just get Complicated.)
Henry's... probably also an Alliance family, maybe high-ish but more provincial? Is pretty sure something's up, but dude, he's a kid, what's he going to do about it. He might possibly be a mild 'reader' and isn't saying anything because uh scary, it would almost make sense given his whole 'everyone's a fairy tale' thing in OUaT. Sixth sense. Maybe?
Tavi: grew up on one of ye goode olde dusty outer planets. Sekritly half his family is... well, also higher end Alliance (seriously, pups, stop having pattern). He grows up with less than no Alliance loyalty, but wants to go there because all the schooling. Where he'd go from there... no clue. But he might attempt a coup, or else go back to the outer planets to organize a resistance. On the one hand, resistance is more up-front and honest, but on the other a coup would put him in charge, where he could Fix Things. And, uh. Yeeaah. ...Complicated.
Kreyu in the Fallout Verse
There were countless plans and contingencies in place to ensure the frightfully exact coordination and timing the ritual required. It was, then, MOST unfortunate that the time chosen to complete the ritual was the morning of October 23, 2077.
The city of Pittsburgh had not been Their first choice for the ritual's epicenter, but circumstances had forced them to use one particular steel mill owned by one of Their members. The wards went up just before sunrise as the ritual began, trapping the unaware workers and the conspirators alike inside.
When nuclear fire came to the city hours later, the wards sucked the life out of every worker in the mill in a desperate attempt to protect the building. They held just long enough to spare the building from the shockwaves, but their collapse moments later caused power to surge into the ritual spell. Far, FAR too much power.
It might have given those thousands around the world and their inhuman masters dying burned from the inside out by the excess power some comfort to know that the ritual WORKED. It's just that no one was in any position to actually appreciate the effects....
....................................................................
In Pittsburgh, Taint flooded into the world. In time, its spiritual poison would mix with FEV and radiation to produce the horrors that plague the city to this day.
In what remained of Washington D.C., magic flooded along the ley lines and the soul of one long dead dragon began to come to life once more.
Washington D.C. 2277 (200 years after the end of the world)
The first thing Kreyu was, was HUNGRY. She awoke in a world that was strange and poisoned, largely bereft of life. In the end, Kreyu was faced with the ugly choice of eating the strange green humanoid giants and their peculiar guard animals or starving to death. Hunger won, and afterward Kreyu had reluctantly used the remains of the Capitol building as her new lair.
........................................................................
While normally the Brotherhood of Steel would have been overjoyed at a decrease in Supermutant attacks, their sudden absence in what was once a Supermutant stronghold had set off all kinds of mental alarms in the minds of the Brotherhood's commanders.
That was why the members of Lyon's Pride were currently moving through the ruins of the Capitol, on guard and made very edgy indeed by the lack of contact with ANYTHING bigger than a radroach.
Sarah Lyons swore softly under her breath as she thumped some strange, grey and rough material blocking the way into the rotunda with her fist. "Damn rubble, what the hell was this stuff, anyway?"
"Sir....I, I don't think that's rubble," one of the Knights interjected from the back.
Her retort was cut short as one enormous purple eye larger than her power armored torso opened in the "rubble". A voice rumbled like an avalanche, if an avalanche could sound offended. "Is punching people in the nose the custom of your country, lady Knight?"
Erik Selvig in HL-verse
And it began at Black Mesa.
The main reason he knew that, was because any attempts to find out what went on at Black Mesa, were Classified. So, evidently, it happened there. With time, he found a couple of patents from there, that hadn't been classified. He also managed to find a full list of the employees that were on site at the time.
The study of the incident began to consume his life. He forsook all company, except those that would force themselves upon him.
He went through the list, searching for clues about what connected the people that had been employed there, but it wasn't until he reached the name Benjamin Rosenburg, that he spotted the connection.
It was a small thread. Fully less than 20% of the staff of Black Mesa, were actually relevant, in terms of the scientific fields that Black Mesa was interested in, and some of those could well be false positives, considering the search he was running included graduation ceremonies from all universities possible, but it was there: Bennet, Cross, Davidson, Freeman, Gilliland, Green, Jackson, Keller, Kleiner, Magnusson, Osborne, Parkin, Rosenburg.
They'd all published papers on theoretical or quantum teleportation experiments, and within the year, they stopped publishing significantly. Hire dates at Black Mesa (based on their final publication). And, while publication dates varied, and often they were cited elsewhere, Each of these men, had made significant steps forward towards bringing teleportation to the world...
As he perused this thought in the safety of the local library, shotgun by his side (the world wasn't safe without one, these days), his thoughts turned to the others he'd known in that field. Vance, for one. He'd been working with Kleiner, back at MIT. Had he got sucked into the black hole that seemed to be Black Mesa? Apparently so, according to the list he had procured. That was a shame. Eli had been a good man, a good friend. He sat back in his chair recalling the days he'd known him. Young and brilliant, courting Azian. He recalled their wedding day. A happier couple he'd never seen.
These days? Eli must have been getting on a little. Much like him, in fact.
Over the next few months, he pieces together parts of the story. He begins to investigate Black Mesa more generally, working out what they were doing.
After several months of this, more general research, as he came to Vance on his list, and found exactly what he'd expected about his publication history, he thought about what Eli would look like now.
Indeed, he'd probably look... Why he'd quite possibly look much like that gentleman over there. Hang on, is that? Could that be little Alyx? He'd heard they'd had a kid, but never seen her. She does look like she could be Azian's child.
He logs off, gathers up his notes before putting all his books back. At various points during this sequence, he's close enough to listen to their conversation. As he completes wrapping his session for the day, he sets one more book back, before walking past the man. He doesn't look at him as he walks past, simply murmurs, "Eli?"
Before he can go five yards, he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"Erik."
He turns into the hand, half breathing a sigh of relief, half astounded that it actually was Eli.
"I thought you were dead."
Eli breaths a small sigh, "So did I. So did I."
They sit back down, Alyx is given some robotics to tinker with and Eli tells the whole sorry story. The experiment, the overloading of the spectrometer, the resonance cascade, the arrival of Xen species. The whole story. Erik listens with rapt attention. It's here that he first hears the saga of Gordon Freeman. And he manages to, finally, ask the right questions about that day.
[OOC: And, you know what. I could continue this. But I won't. Not now, anyway.]
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Pinkie Pie in Gravity Falls?