Yom Chamishi - *Punk; (or Cyberpunk Derivatives)

[ryuutchi.livejournal.com]

I'm your host, ryuutchi, and it's my last day! Your final theme from me this week is "*Punk"-- that is, any cyberpunk derivative you want to get your grubby little hands on. Steampunk, atompunk, dieselpunk, biopunk, silkpunk, mythpunk-- you name it!

If you don't have any idea what I'm talking about, here are some links that might jumpstart your imagination: 1, 2, 3

Please remember to format your prompts in the proper manner-- as such:
DCU, Lex Luthor, Luthor Corp as an industrial giant in a world still trapped in the midst of the industrial revolution
Hanna is Not a Boy's Name, {...}/Hanna, Victorientalism
Star Trek Reboot, Kirk/McCoy, The Glass and Clockwork City
Young Avengers, Kate Bishop/Eli Bradley, In a world defined by atomic power and a Cold War, only an elite few have the ear of the President


You should know the rules by now, but if you don't, here they are:

• No more than three prompts per fandom.


• No more than five prompts at a time (though after you get one or more of your prompts filled, you are free to leave more).


• No spoilers in your prompts until a week after air date or publication.


• Warn for spoilers in your fic in bold and with at least three spaces above your fic.

If there's nothing here that catches your eye, feel free to go though our Lonely Prompts

Theme="cyberpunkderivatives"

Comments

[ryuutchi.livejournal.com]

DCU, Lex Luthor, Luthor Corp as an industrial giant in a world still trapped in the midst of the industrial revolution

[ryuutchi.livejournal.com]

Hanna is Not a Boy's Name, {...}/Hanna, Victorientalism

first hanna, first victorientalism

[kat8cha.livejournal.com]

Hanna was an explorer. Okay, he wasn't a great explorer (he'd sort of missed out on the whole 'loot the pyramids' thing and instead had spent all of his time in Egypt fighting mummies and as such he was flat broke) but he wasn't really interested in being the type of explorer who came home loaded with jewels and gold and stories of exotic people that he'd killed or maimed or just looted. Hanna wanted the type of adventure they talked about in penny dreadfuls where you swashbuckled and swept ladies with large bustles off their feet and where you came home with nothing but lint in your pockets but a head full of stories.

Hanna's tutors had always told him that his head was rather empty. Even his ancient runes tutor who had been the only tutor Hanna had actually paid attention to.

"I suppose any hope of being understood died with my interpreter." Hanna started off awkwardly, his hands pushing into his lint-filled pockets and his elbows flapping like a bird in the cool air. The garden was nice, pleasant, and Hanna could almost forget that it was actually a graveyard.

Except not really, because he could feel the dead. Not in a 'oh god ghosts!' way more in a 'this place feels connected to the other world HuuuuUuuuuuummmmmm…' …way.

"I thought, perhaps, you could show me the way out of here?" Hanna asked, big hands coming out of his pockets and waving to encompass the garden. The nearby waterfall wasn't really that loud, so the guy with the glowing orange eyes and the oddly colored skin should probably be able to hear him. He didn't seem to though, instead he was focused on the small paper creation unfolding between his fingers.

Or, er, infolding?

"…uh." Hanna glanced around the garden. He could vaguely remember how he had gotten up there (through hanging trees ripe with fruit, past the colorful open house with barred windows, over the hill and through the maze of ponds) but at the same time every time he tried to leave the garden he found himself right back where he'd started.

He wished that vampire, or whatever it was, hadn't eaten his interpreter last week.

The glowing eyed man held up his paper creation. It looked a lot like a bird, and while Hanna watched the wings of the paper bird began to flap and the paper bird lifted off into the air and disappeared.

"Sit." The glowing eyed man said, gesturing at the smooth, round rock beside him. "You have much to learn before you can leave here."

"Learn?" Hanna plunked himself down on the rock, attempting to mimic Glowing Eyes folded legs stance but giving up. He wasn't sure his pants would let him bend that way, even if his legs would. "What am I learning? Oh! I'm Hanna."

"I know." Glowing Eyes almost smiled. Almost. Or, wait, maybe it was a smile? "I have no name. Call me what you wish." And then Glowing Eyes shut his eyes and held his hands up, forefinger and thumb closed in a circle with the rest stretched out. A soft hum issued from his throat.

"…uh. Sure." Hanna did mimic the hand thing. And the hum. And closed his eyes.

What should he call this guy? Maybe Tabby, like that alley cat he'd taken care of until it ran away. Or Victor, after Queen Victoria or Victor Hugo. Or maybe…

---

also, I learn new steampunk terms every day...

[ryuutchi.livejournal.com]

Star Trek Reboot, Kirk/McCoy, The Glass and Clockwork City

[ryuutchi.livejournal.com]

Young Avengers, Kate Bishop/Eli Bradley, In a world defined by atomic power and a Cold War, only an elite few have the ear of the President

Blue Skies (AU)

[jazzypom.livejournal.com]

"Miss Bishop," Timothy Goff, the Secretary of State stood up, crossed over as he made to shake her hand - the non metallic one. "Pleased that you could make it."

"We were lucky," Kate said. "The President is safe?"

"Elijah Bradley was with him, as well as that - other one."

"His name is Thomas Shepherd," Kate supplied as they walked along. "After the help he's given us, I'd have thought -"

"His grandparents were reds, Kate. Better dead than red, I say."

Kate smiled thinly. "They've been dead for years now, and Tommy is as much American as you and me. Speaking of American, is Patriot there?"

"He refuses to leave the President's side until we've gotten him safely out of here."

"That's... what he does."

"Of course," Goff agreed.

"How is he? Still untouched by the radiation?" Kate cast her eye at the murky red streaks in the sky, and wondered if the streets would ever have people walking on them, just using them again.

"It's the strangest thing, that colour-" Goff began.

Kate walked on, not wanting to hear it.

Five minutes later, they were in the oval office - a replica, not the real thing - because of the unsettled times. Outside, skies the colour of constant twilight,a direct result of the fall out from various mushroom clouds that wiped out two states in the distance, but still could be seen from where they were.

By the window, President Russell, all light eyed, sandy haired and American-Irish charm. Beside him stood a man, just taller than him by a head, shoulders wider than his by a breath. He clad in the special under suit that that people had to wear with their special oversuits beyond the buildings, let they became silhouettes when they stepped outside.

At her footsteps tapped into the room, his head jerked up, and he gave a faint smile in her direction.

"Mr President," Kate greeted, holding out her hand to be shook, only for the President to shake her right hand, the one with warm skin and smooth flesh.

"Kate, so glad that you could make it, before I'm whisked off to parts unknown. Messrs Bradley and Shephard - " he angled his head, trying to find the latter, but Kate knew Tommy was half way to wherever right now.

"It's for your own safety, sir." Goff stepped forward. "Before we can do any sort of bargaining, you have to go to ground. Before we meet face to face, there should be preconditions-"

"Tim," the President placed his hand on his SoS's shoulder. "I hear what you're saying, but give me a minute."

"With these two?" The question veered on the edge of a sneer, "these kids are barely out of college, and being caught by fall out doesn't make them authorities, it just makes them -"

"Freaks?" Eli cut in.

Timothy Goff narrowed his eyes. "You said it son, not me. But you -"

"I think you should go now, Mr Goff," Kate said, voice cool, on the edges of brittle. "I'd hate for this conversation to be leaked to the fourth estate, regarding the sort of man picked for the Secretary of State. One might believe that you're better off red... than yellow."

"Telling tales to your Daddy, little girl?"

"Sometimes, " Kate smiled, all manners now. "He listens."

[jestana.livejournal.com]

Horatio Hornblower, Horatio/any (preferably Archie or William), "Are you sure you don't have a clockwork heart, Horatio?"

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Jo/Lucifer, she finds him in the back room his wings tarnished and rusted in places, the blue glass eyes are dull -- Jo decides then and there to buy him.

curiosities at the edge of the world (1/2)

[pyrebi.livejournal.com]

She has never seen this shop before, sandwiched between Lou's Deli and the hardware store. Jo Harvelle's been in this town her whole life, and granted she doesn't come down this way often, but she still thinks she'd remember a place advertising "antiques and curiosities" in gold writing across the dust-darkened windows.

A little brass bell jingles above her head when she opens the door. It looks like a junk shop on the inside, piles of musty books in boxes, knick-knacks lining rickity furniture. There is a glass countertop full of pocketwatches with strange circles etched into their lids, like a language she cannot read, but there is no shop-owner.

Jo twists around an old bureau covered in items of various shapes and sizes, winding her way deeper into the shop. The edge of her sleeve catches a dark wooden box, and she catches it just before it tumbles to the floor. The lid pops open to reveal a rabbit's foot lying on plush velvet, and Jo finds herself reaching for it, fascinated.

"Wouldn't touch that, if I was you," someone drawls. A man appears suddenly beside her and snaps the box shut. "I don't think that's up your alley. You seem like the make-your-own-luck sort."

Jo blinks. Now that the rabbit's foot is out of sight, she can't remember why she wanted to pick it up in the first place. The man cocks his head at her, a sharp, unnatural movement. In the quiet, warm air of the shop she can hear a clock ticking. It makes her anxious but she doesn't know why.

"We haven't had a customer in a while," he says. "Am I glad to see you."

"You can't have been here long," Jo points out, despite the layer of dust covering everything. She would've remembered a place like this.

"We've been here forever," the shop-owner disagrees. "You can't even begin to comprehend how long."

Jo begins to argue about that, but something about the way the guy looks at her dries up the words in her mouth. He's not blinking, she realizes after a moment. He's shortish, dressed casually, completely average-looking. But at the same time there's something vaguely terrifying about him, in the way he moves and the way he stares, like he's not quite human.

"Take a look around. When you find what you want, lemme know," he says.

"I'm just browsing," Jo protests.

"You'll find something," the man says, shaking his head with short, choppy jerks. "You guys always do."

Jo shifts away. The guy retreats behind the counter and proceeds to ignore her. He has a collection of objects in front of him (a key, a comb, a polaroid, a pair of glasses, a bus ticket, a deck of cards) and he's putting them in different combinations and frowning to himself.

She wanders around, looking but not touching. A coin engraved with strange symbols gives her pause, then a handgun with a long, long barrel. Each time she stops to look at something, the man behind the counter looks up and stares at her expectantly. But each time she moves away and he goes back to fiddling.

She pushes through a bead curtain and finds herself in a murky back room, dust-motes drifting lazily in the shaft of golden afternoon sunlight coming through the sole unblocked window. The stuff back here is larger: huge chests carved with runes, an old refrigerator wrapped in chains. A big black car is resting beneath a cloth cover like it's waiting for someone. Jo skirts around it and stifles a gasp.

[jestana.livejournal.com]

Any fandom, any ship, Coin-Operated Boy (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAnyYTjjhJ0) by The Dresden Dolls

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Gabriel/Sam, clockwork

[phate-phoenix.livejournal.com]

Supernatural; Castiel/Dean; "I gripped you tight, Dean. I gripped you tight, and with these two hands remade you."

Supernatural, Castiel/Dean, With These Two Hands (G)

[iambickilometer.livejournal.com]

Dean flexes the metal hand, and with a whirr of gears his fingers move by his mental command. He looks up to stare at Cas, who is watching him closely, biting the top of his lower lip in that way he does when he's accidentally acting human.

"My arm burned off?" Dean asks, closing his prosthetic hand with another spin of gears. There's no feeling there, but he can still probably throw a punch with it. It'll work fine. He can't let this be a problem, not with a world full of evil to destroy and people to save.

"You were badly scorched," Cas says, looking down at his own living hands. "But the arm was... When I reached you, it was too late."

Cas doesn't look like he'd just been through inferno, but then, angels probably don't singe easy. That probably explains what happened to the coat, though. Dean wants to ask what happened, but then, he can probably guess. He lowers his arm again, the fake one, rests it on the cot at his side. "Guess I owe you one."

Cas has his hand in the pocket of his new coat, and won't look up at Dean. He says, "You don't need to repay me. I would do it again."

He would, too, and without expecting anything for it. That, more than the new arm, more than the near miss, or the prospect of death-by-fire, is what scares Dean the most.

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, ether

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Castiel + Gabriel, angels are cyborgs

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Gabriel/Crowley, mad scientist Gabriel has captured test subject Crowley

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, computer hackers and demonic viruses

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Whose Line Is It Anyways? RPS, Ryan/Colin, people that funny can't be human

no fic....yet

[utterlystrange.livejournal.com]

But I am totally going to write this!

[mulder200.livejournal.com]

SPN, Castiel/Dean, He was created to obey orders and not question. And then he met Dean Winchester.

[mulder200.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Gabriel, Despite the fact that Sam built the AI, G.A.B.R.I.E.L still had a mind of his own

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Sam Winchester, programmer in his spare time, hadn't expected anything out of G.A.B.R.I.E.L., seeing as the AI was based on simple scripts with limited ability to learn. Nothing against the AI, but Sam had wanted it to be functional instead of chatty.

Which was why Sam immediately gave Dean Winchester, brother extraordinaire, the evil eye when G.A.B.R.I.E.L. cheerfully replied to Sam's request for an inventory with the inventory (organized by color and shape instead of subject and category) and a request for more access to the internet.

"Hey, don't look at me," Dean said, once he got an explanation for the evil eye out of Sam. "I didn't touch it."

"Then how...?" Sam trailed off as the speakers on his laptop un-muted themselves with a loud beep.

Then the song "Candyman" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nu-7rPdFjvI) started playing, and Sam returned his glare to Dean, who had started to crack up with helpless laughter.

Sam let go of Dean's shirt and returned to the computer, trying to get the song to shut off, and to figure out how G.A.B.R.I.E.L. had gotten online, but -

None of his keys worked, and the song kept playing as Sam watched G.A.B.R.I.E.L. rename its files to T.R.I.C.K.S.T.E.R. and then upload itself to the internet - in effect, escaping Sam's computer.

"...how?" Sam asked, still prodding his locked out keyboard.

"I swear I didn't touch it, Sam," Dean said, shaking his head. "Were you drunk when you programmed him?"

"It. I was sober when I programmed it."

"Really."

"Really! I didn't put in anything that could ha...oh, damn."

"What'd you do."

"Loophole. In case the inventory came up short, it had permission to go order more stuff."

"Internet access." Dean supplied, shaking his head. They both knew what internet access could do to an A.I. It was only luck that C.A.S.T.I.E.L. hadn't run off or turned evil like R.U.B.Y. had, once Dean accidentally had Cas look up a few things for him.

Sam sighed and rebooted his laptop. Maybe the next AI would last longer.

[veleda-k.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Morgana, Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

[kayim.livejournal.com]

The Losers, Jensen, Cyberpunk - He uses his new neural interface to hook himself directly into the 'net.

[phate-phoenix.livejournal.com]

White Collar; Neal; Neal Caffrey is the best iris-forger in the entire world. Or, accused forger, anyway.

[sycophantastic.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, the wind-up angel

[sycophantastic.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam/Gabriel, Agent Winchester is tasked with taking down a brilliant hacker known as The Trickster

No fic, yet...

[kryptic-pear.livejournal.com]

It's coming. When it's not midnight.

[sycophantastic.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel mythpunk, the Watchers (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watcher_%28angel%29) are reviled & hunted, but Dean feels the urge to protect this one

[iheartcaffrey.livejournal.com]

"Uriel is dead."

Castiel drops the ring in his hand without another word.

Dean blinks back a rush of total surprise; he'd hadn't thought Cas would actually go through with it. He reminds himself to stick to the plan and slips his hand into his coat pocket and curls his fingers around the handle of his ever-present, ever-trusted angel-killing knife. He reminds himself it doesn't matter if Cas is the one who brought him out of hell, it doesn't matter that Cas has gone against everything he's ever known and betrayed his entire angelic family for him. The only thing that matters is making sure Lucifer is bound before it's too late.

And Cas is still technically one of them - Grigori - the things that Dean has been hunting for over a decade.

Dean has him up against the alley wall and the knife at his throat before he can even react.

Cas looks Dean right in the eyes, calm and unafraid. "Do it, Dean. I'm dead now no matter what, and I'd rather it be at your hand than any of my brother's."

Dean's hands start to shake a little, and he doesn't understand it. He's never had a problem with this before. Never.

"Come on. What are you waiting for?" Cas prods, his eyes searching Dean's as if he might actually find an answer.

Dean thinks, not for the first time, how easy it would be to get lost in those eyes, and there's no denying it now. This just feels wrong

Dean withdraws the knife. "Get out of here before I change my mind."

Cas disappears in a whoosh of air almost as soon the words are out of his mouth.

"Must be going soft," Dean mutters to himself, then decides to head back to the hotel.

**************************

He calls Sam on the way to let him know he has the ring. Sam tells him that's great, he's going out to pick up dinner, he should be back by the time Dean gets there.

Only when Dean arrives, he's not back yet.

Dean surveys the small pile of books on the table where Sam was working, sits down and starts looking for protection spells.

"Definitely going soft," he mutters again.

[sycophantastic.livejournal.com]

Alice (SyFy), Alice/Hatter, romance among steam & copper

[kasmodia.livejournal.com]

SPN, Dean/kitten!Sam, the kitten knows better how to operate the laptop than Dean

[araine.livejournal.com]

Kuroshitsuji, Lau (& or /) Ranmao, the shadows that lurk in a world of silk and steam