Monday DE: Context? We Don't Need No Stinkin' Context!

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Goooooooood Monday, Milliways, and welcome to another fine day in Punxsutawney!

For today's DE, some backstory: when I'm doing tasks that don't require full brainpower (e.g. walking the dog, doing dishes, showering), I will often find myself with a fragment of story - no context, no plot, just a quick snapshot. It tends to involve my RP characters, probably because they're the characters whose POVs I'm most often writing from, and is often speech but occasionally just a short description of something. Generally I then inflict these snippets on one or other of my best friends, frequently Eric (sorry Eric!), because... hey, might as well write them down somewhere!

Is it just me? Does anyone else do that?

Well, I guess it's time we found out. For today's DE, please give me a short snippet (max 100ish words? No minimum!) from your character(s)'s POV. Description, action, speech... anything goes. What are they thinking right now? What are they doing?



OH. ALSO. Managed to accidentally miss my own Milliversary a week ago (11th April). And do it again when writing this post...... I am very smart. Anyway, happy fourteenth(!?!?) Milliversary to me. <3

Comments

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Here's the McGonagall snippet that inspired today's DE (and which got inflicted on Klaus-mun before I slept last night):

"Your father did mad things because he thought they were hilarious, while your mother did them because she thought they were the right thing to do. And between them, Merlin save me, they gave us you, who does them because they're both. My hair was black when you arrived at this school, you know."

For once in his life, the boy didn't seem to have an answer; she frowned, and fought the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. "For Circe's sake get indoors, Mr. Potter, before I have to think of something adjacent to a punishment to do about you. Go on now, shift."

[holdingacat]

Still love this. :D

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<3

It would have been so nice if this came with any kind of plot, but, you know. [head in hands]

rambly rambles on Sunshine's mission

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine understood their pain. She understood their anger. She really did. The pain that sometimes still shot through her (treacherous, poisoned) hands was the same, if lesser. Evil is an idea - reject the idea, and you reject the evil. Yes, that is a handy sentiment, but evil is such a strong idea. It clings. It soaks in like coffee into ladyfingers while one is making tirumisu, changing the cookies' texture forever. And they had had so much longer for the idea of evil to take hold, to become an intrinsic part of their understanding of themselves.

And now here she and Con were, telling them that human society's portrayal of vampires as monsters, as ex-people, merely set them up to accept what their masters had told them when they were turned. That survival required them to cast aside thoughts of personhood, to burn away all thoughts of kindness, of mercy, of softness, of humanity, and be the monster society said they were. That it was necessary, and the only way to survive.

Now here she and Con were, telling them that every horror they had learned to live with - been told to embrace, been told to enjoy - was unnecessary. Telling them that the being, the monster, the un-person they had become was built on lies, from both society and their masters. Telling them that who they had been, the person, with loves and cares and hopes, had not had to die, held down and drowned in blood for the sake of survival. And for those who still remembered who they had been, who had not buried the memory beyond where they could still reach, the thought burned like daylight.

She understood the anger that followed, and grieved its existence. She wished she could help them rediscover themselves, rebuild their personhood. She wished she could show them that the deep shadow they found in themselves was not an absence of light, but proof of the light's existence. But evil... is such a strong idea.

You SAID you didn't need context. OCs in a Original universe.

[innerbrat]

When Oscar drew back, Nate unhooked herself from the stand and pushed herself gently into the middle of the room, where she could twist and examine her back in the mirror. He screwed the applicator back into the nutridium and watched in fascination as the symbiotes in her skin began to glow even brighter than usual as they adapted to the fresh source of energy and settled into the new shape.

"What is it?" Nate asked, letting herself gently rotate as she watched it from every angle. "Looks like a rune or a symbol of some sort."

When Oscar reached the far wall, he stuck the nutridium on a magnetic storage board and hooked hs feet into a footrail. He still wasn't comfortable just floating in ZG like Nate and the rest of the crew.

"It's just a squiggle," he said. "When we're kids we usually make up a symbol or something to write on our favourite things."

"Like...?"

He shrugged. "Guns, armour. You can't really 'own' things and writing our name wouldn't really work because there's only twenty of them, so we make our own squiggles. We know whose they are but the CommOffs just pretend we're petty vandals. I guess I'm just used to drawing it."

Nate had that puzzled, vaguely angry expression she always wore when trying to work out something about his previous life. Then she grinned, and the exhalation of her laughter made her turn a gentle somersault.

"Did you just mark me as yours?" she asked, teasing.

Oscar reeled back so hard he knocked his head on the magetic board behind him.

Like property.

Re: You SAID you didn't need context. OCs in a Original universe.

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CONTEXT IS FOR THE WEAK

[bjornwilde]

Happy Milliversary!

I do get those snippets of things in my head and usually, while I'm driving so I can't write it down. :/

Current little bit:
"Look...it's just you left." The human towered above her and gloated. Wyk picked herself up and glared at the bastard. "What are you going to do, gnaw my ankles?"

She reached out with her mind and lifted every piece of debris she could find. Her talent wasn't strong. She could push herself in the buoyancy of the Astral on most days or lift tea mugs or the like, but she could lift many such tiny things. And most of these were sharp. "I thought I'd start with your eyes actually."

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And a really really tiny snippet on Moll, which I came up with while... waiting for the trailers before a movie? (Remember those? The kind you watched in cinemas, which were like big rooms with lots of chairs strung together in front of a huge screen?)

Molly leans back and stretches out her legs, long-limbed, cool-eyed and watchful, and it's as if she's flicked a 'centre of attention' switch: no apparently normal young woman, sipping a milkshake at the end of the universe, has ever seemed quite so much like a ticking bomb.

Innocently, "What?"