DE: Fic Friday

[bjornwilde]

Lets do this. Tag in with the pups you want to write for, including ones you might be thinking of playing someday or ones you miss but don’t play. Get a prompt of some kind. Write whatever inspires. No requirements for length or format.  

Comments

[ceitfianna]

I always enjoy fic Friday, its a rainy day here. Hopefully I can write some today and things go more easily than they did yesterday.

Cassian Andor
Quentin
Sameth
Demeter

[bjornwilde]

Cassian: Home cooking
Quentin: Etiquette as a weapon
Sameth: The right piece
Demeter: Delayed Spring

[childofrebellion]

Fest tasted of spices that tickled his nose and warmed his mouth. Sometimes the heat came from the warmth of a mug of hot chocolate other times, the picante bite of a hot pepper.

Far from Fest, sometimes a scent or a taste would surprise him, whispering of warmth in the cold.

Not where I left it

[makesthings]

Ferin watched Sameth, he seemed to go someplace else when he worked, not a magic trance just thinking. He looked up and reached for something then frowned as it wasn't where it was supposed to be. "What do you need?"

"Ferin, a small piece of steel. I thought I'd put it down there."

"I didn't take it but I'll help you look," That got a smile from him, Ferin liked his smile, liked how he saw the world searching for the right piece or word or Mark to make it all work better.

Re: Not where I left it

[bjornwilde]

I loved both of these. And yay, Ferin!

Re: Not where I left it

[ceitfianna]

Thank you, they're good prompts and I like the other ones but haven't had any ideas yet. Ferin is lovely.

[holdingacat]

Cassian: The bug-out bag.

Being prepared

[childofrebellion]

When he was a boy, during the war, Cassian had a bag with his favorite toys, snacks and an extra set of clothes. His father told him that they had to be ready in case something happened to their building.

After his father was gone, that bag changed to include all he could carry of home and what he needed. At first that meant more food, lockpicks, extra ammo for the cell.

The bigger and older he got, the more his entire life seemed to be in the bags he had with him. If there was space, he'd try and fit dried spices into it but they could be too precious. After an explosion that took out his first bag, he didn't have anything personal left to save. Now it was a way to be prepared against all the ways the galaxy would change his plans.

[sardonicynic]

Belated, but! If you'd still like some potential prompts to play with:

→ Cassian: silence
→ Demeter: human kindness is overflowing (and I think it's going to rain today)

Too quiet

[childofrebellion]

True silence is rare in Cassian's life, generators, ship engines whir, rain falls, the wind howls, he always seems to be near crowds. When he was younger he knew something closer to silence from the snow on Fest which blanketed the planet and made every step, every noise louder.

When he was younger, he used to miss that quiet, the safe hush that said; you're home. Now in the quiet watches of the night when there's no ship or Kay to fill the silence, ghosts wait in the darkness to remind him of all he's done.

Re: Too quiet

[sardonicynic]

Oh, that last line. ♥

Thank you for writing, and for sharing this haunting snapshot, Fi.

Re: Too quiet

[childofrebellion]

It was a really good prompt and oh Cassian, he has so much pain.

[bjornwilde]

I'll go with:
Jessica Drew
Viv Vision
Ahsoka Tano
Sabine Wren

Bonus:
Kady Orloff-Diaz (The Magicians)
Illyana Rasputin (What If? Magik, 2018)

[childofrebellion]

Ahsoka-worlds I inhabit
Sabine-blooms
Viv-hugs

[jedi_interrupted]

She’d spent her years helping to build the rebellion hiding behind false names, faked holograms, and shadows. Rarely did she take direct action. So it was with some surprise when, years after the battle fo Yavin, that she began to here tales of the white saber wielder.

Seems even in obscurity she left her mark.

[explosive_artist]

The first time Sabine visited her home world after the fall of the Empire, she hadn’t thought much of the time of year. Spending so much time in space, one tended to forget seasons. Drinking her morning tea she smiled as she noticed the first Spring flowers pushing through the snow.

[dreamingofelectricsheep]

Viv was confused by Amadeus’ reaction to her words. She’d expected him to be upset, learning she hadn’t found their kiss to be pleasurable, that she wasn’t certain she found men to be attractive. But instead he was hugging her.

This did not seem logical and she would have to ask him for clarification once he stopped.

[childofrebellion]

These are all wonderful, I love the hope in them. And of course Ahsoka's the kind of person who would end up in stories of the Rebellion.

[holdingacat]

Ahsoka: Alarm clocks

Kady: Sufficiently advanced magic

[hedge_bitch]

“Okay, let’s get started. We only have about fifteen minutes until the rain comes.” Kady stood and dusted off her hands. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the candles and colored sand.

Startled, Marcus canted his head and squinted at her. “How do you know? What spell did you use?”

She gave him a look and pulled out her phone. “Weather Underground.”

[holdingacat]

A++ *cackles* Oh, poor Marcus.

[holdingacat]

Alright, time to get my mojo back. Hit me up, people. :)

[bjornwilde]

Sign language.

Helpful Signage

[holdingacat]

Cecil didn't understand the words tumbling out of his mouth. That was his first coherent thought after... well, it must have been a very long time, considering how the light in the recording booth had changed from reflected mid-day sun to the glow of fluorescent and neon. His mouth felt as dry as the Sand Wastes, but it kept forming words - endless, rolling words dredged up from somewhere else, someone else. Something else.

Possession was terribly unpleasant.

He found he couldn't control much else either - despite attempts to move his hand stayed cradled around the mic stand, his fingers tangled in the wire, just a touch too tight. His body stayed perched on the edge of his seat, balanced but held in place by muscles that were going to protest strenuously when allowed to go slack. His eyes, though. His eyes he could move, and did. The 'broadcasting' light was still blazing, red as blood. His notes were scattered in disarray - he doesn't remember doing that, doesn't know if he put up a fight or if whatever is still producing that endless narrative became destructive at some point. He can just see the control room and...

Uncle Cecil?

The notepad is lined - elementary school spacing, broad and regular. The writing is choppy and dark - he suspects charcoal, or something of the like. It's a narrow dodge of the current ban on writing utensils, but he knows as well as anyone that sometimes the SSP isn't interested in enforcing the full spirit of the law. Beyond the paper, beyond the slim hand pressing the paper against the glass and leaving five-fingered smudge imprints, are faces. Worried faces, so similar despite the years between them. His sister, looking tired (she used to always look tired), sitting in the director's seat. His niece, wide-eyed as she peers back at him. He knows that she must have had to haul herself out of her chair and lean uncomfortably against the sound board to brace that sign against the window, but none of that shows in her face when he manages to wink at her.

He can't hear her yelping to her mother, can't hear the director's chair go crashing back when she stands to press her own hand against the glass. The sound-proofing is too good.

He can hear two twin thumps as both of them press notes to the glass - his niece's full of smiley faces and hearts and mis-spellings, his sister's full of concise if shaky details on how to get his body back under his own rightful management.

Re: Helpful Signage

[bjornwilde]

Oh I love this. Nicely done!

[childofrebellion]

missed connection

Phone Tag

[holdingacat]

He could hear his phone ringing, the off-tone jangle of a device muffled under too many things to be easily accessible. Grumbling at the entropic nature of the universe, Cecil dug through his bag frantically, mentally counting down the moments until he'd be too late.

He was too late, by a split second, just in time to see 'CARLOS' flicker off the phone's display.

He hit redial.

And waited.

And waited.

"You have reached the voicemail of Carlos - I must be doing some really cool science right now. I mean, science does not inherently have a temperature, as the vagarities of temperature and how we sense and measure temperature are also science, but in this case I mean it is very interesting. All Science is interesting. So leave a message." Cecil startles a little at the beep, and rapidly clears his throat.

"Uh... I mean, hi, sorry, this is Cecil. Um. Cecil Palmer, I mean, I... well, I just missed a call from you? I'm sorry, I couldn't get to my phone in time and I hope it wasn't something super important and that you're okay and... well. Call me back. If you want to, I mean! I'll have my phone out, this time." He rambles, then ends the call before the rambling can get worse.



Somewhere else in Night Vale, a scientist is listening to his phone ramble on with the voice of someone who cannot respond.

"You have reached the voicemail of Cecil Gershwin Palmer. That might seem like an easy thing to do, but think about how long you had to stay alive just to learn how a phone works and who I am. Congratulate yourself on that. Give yourself a vigorous pat on the back, and…don’t forget to leave a message after the heavily distorted sample of a man saying “I just couldn’t eat another bite.""

Re: Phone Tag

[childofrebellion]

Aww, this is lovely and captures how annoying just missing someone can be.