Monday: History and Myth

[caz251.livejournal.com]

Hey everyone,

I am Caz251 and I’m your guest host for this week. Today we will start off with History and Myth. Those prompts that almost seem like legends themselves, bring them out, show us a characters history, and have fun.

Just a quick reminder of the rules:

: Only three prompts for the same fandom & only five prompts in a row (though if one of your prompts is filled, you can prompt again).

: No spoilers in your prompts for at least a week after the airdate/release.

: Warn for any spoilers for your fic in bold and leave at least three spaces before the text.

And please take the monkeys into consideration when writing your prompt. If the prompt is too long, it becomes very hard to record it properly in the archive. Thank you!

Also, remember to keep prompts in the correct format. For example:

      Doctor Who, The Doctor & Jack, Time Lords they were nought but a myth.

      Harry Potter, Harry, The Hallows and their story would fade into history just like their Master.

      Harry Potter/NCIS, Harry & Gibbs, Family history was something Harry was very interested in.

And if nothing here catches your eye there is always the Lonely Prompts.

{A quick side note, Help Japan opened today for auction and bids, take a quick look and you might find something you want.}

tag= History and Myth

Comments

[caz251.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, The Doctor & Jack, Time Lords they were nought but a myth.

[fluffmonkey.livejournal.com]

Jack remembers well the stories about Time Lords. They were discussed as myths, terrible godlike figures who had little concern for humanity except as a thing to be controlled. He read about their impossible civilization, their self imposed isolation, their elitism, their protection.
Once upon a time, they fascinated him. Back before he was a rogue and a con artist, when his primary concern in life was finding Gray and bringing him home. He read about them and dreamed about some day finding one who would help him. Surely one of these beings would consider that desolation worth interfering in?
He hoped and dreamed and studied, working hard to join the Time Agency, so that one day he would be good enough to attract their attention and ask their assistance. He made it to the Time Agency, made everyone proud, worked hard... and then felt his dream die. He never did meet a Time Lord, and he just kept doing worse and worse things in the name of his job. It got to the point where he honestly thought he was doing things terrible enough to get interfered with on the grounds of preventing his actions.
No one came. He started to believe that there was no one TO come, that the entire legend of the Time Lords was a cruel joke played by time travelers on the unsuspecting.
He stopped believing, and it hardened him. He got callous, cruel, and started working with John. They fed off of each other, and while Jack couldn't exactly say he was happy, he was certainly too busy enjoying life to notice. He had a life, one that had no place for the childhood dreams of a foolish boy.
But then he lost those two years, and he had to leave. A small part of him thought that surely now they would show up and fix things. Mostly, though, he was just lost. He had skills to survive, though, and survive he did. He was good at cons, good at charming people into giving him what he wanted, and it worked for a while.
Until one day he found one. He managed to pick up a Time Lord, and help him save the world. Everything he'd read about in the stories was true. Here was this insane, hardened, vulnerable man, working with him to save the world. He finally felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Remorse.
The Doctor made him remember all those hopes and dreams he'd had long before he became Jack. The world was wonderful again, full of hope and joy and love, emotions he'd long before put to rest. If he had to die, dying on the happiest day of his life was not a bad way to go.
But he didn't, he lived, the Doctor saved him. Now he was travelling with a myth, and he found himself growing more and more attached to the man behind it. This absolutely impossible man had given him his life back, and he knew he would trust him till the end of the universe and then some.

[caz251.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Harry, The Hallows and their story would fade into history just like their Master.

[caz251.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter/NCIS, Harry & Gibbs, Family history was something Harry was very interested in.

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Any, any, when myths come to life and demand to try your breakfast

[fluffmonkey.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Rose/Jack/9

(sorry, this ended up being a companion piece to http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/232690.html?thread=47969266#t47969266. Hope you enjoy)

It had honestly never occurred to Rose before Jack joined them that others might think of Time Lords as simple myths. Admittedly, they were quite fantastic, what with their telepathic abilities and their two hearts and their tiny ships that were so much bigger on the inside. It was just that ever since the Doctor had taken her hand that first day in the basement he'd seemed so much more real than anything else around.
So, it had surprised her when Jack spent the first few days in the TARDIS looking both shell shocked and wildly happy. She'd teased him about it, but he couldn't-or wouldn't explain to him why the existence of the Doctor was such a huge deal to him.
It got her thinking. Back in her own time, Jack would be just as much of a myth as the Doctor. The solitary, outrageously powerful being and the charismatic time traveler. It even sounded absurd in her own mind. But here they were, living and loving together. She had to come to one simple conclusion as she sat down with a plate of pancakes that morning. Myths aren't nearly as exciting when they're stealing bites of your breakfast.

[ravenspear.livejournal.com]

Supernatural; Gabriel; Loki and his children.

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, any angel, it's said that angels are born, sing their praises to God, then die again, only to be reborn the next day

[owleyes-arisen.livejournal.com]

Gabriel doesn't sing.

His brothers raise their voices in chorus to the Father, to the Maker of all things, their songs weaving together into a majesty that echoes in the core of all things.

Raphael sings, and his words are wisdom - the simple joy of zephyr and cloud, the roil of the stratosphere and the crackling ozone of starlight as it seizes through a planetary atmosphere. Raphael is the singer, and the winds billow beneath his wings as the Healer shucks off his cloak of duty and dives, laughing, into the heart of the storm.

Lucifer sings, and his song is beauty beyond comparison. Love throbs in his voice-which-is-no-voice, is instead light and grace and the sheer essence of all that he is, all that he hopes to become. The Father's secondborn is joy personified - growth and life and ecstasy unmarred by grief or sorrow - the Morningstar sings, and the Host follows. Lucifer dances, enmeshed, suffused, in the presence of a thousand thousand brothers, delighting in and with each and every one of them as they respond with awed joy.

Michael sings, not well, but with passion, and his words are fire. The Prince of the Host is duty and courage, the strength that holds the Sword and the wisdom to turn it aside. He moves in the deep places of the earth, gliding easily through the molten streams of rock that form the lifeblood of the planet's core, and the fire that cocoons his form is a pale echo of the fire that burns within him. The General sings, and is content to serve the Will of God - the Will that Is Of and is one with his Father.

Gabriel does not sing.

He is not as wise as his brothers, nor as beautiful, nor as powerful. But what he lacks in wisdom, he makes up for in knowledge.

There is a certain difference between the two.

He is the Herald, and his voice is more glorious then even that of the Morningstar's, his terrible, beautiful brother. He is the Messenger, and quicker by far then the Healer, whose wings are storm and lightening. He stands at the Left Hand of the Father, just as the Viceroy stands at the Right, and he is still, and remains, one among many.

He moves in the deep places, the depths of the sea, and the waters are his to command. Alone among his brethren, he does not know the urge to die - because he knows that one does not need to die in order to change.

[rise-your-dead.livejournal.com]

Burn Notice, Cast, Roman Gladiator AU

no fic

[daria234.livejournal.com]

but I LOVE this prompt!!!!!!

[rise-your-dead.livejournal.com]

Adventures of Brisco County Jr., Brisco/Dixie, When the past was wild

[ravenspear.livejournal.com]

Supernatural; Dean & Sam Winchester; They are not dead. No, they are just sleeping, until the day the land needs them once again.

[rise-your-dead.livejournal.com]

Evil Dead Trilogy, Ash/Sheila, Cupid and Psyche (Greek Myth) AU

[rise-your-dead.livejournal.com]

Burn Notice, Michael, Michael Westen: The Myth, The Legend

Filled: Myth and Legend

[ammcj062.livejournal.com]

(I'm experimenting a bit with my writing style near the end on this one. Hopefully it turns out okay.)

The only people who have heard of Michael Westen are very, very good at their jobs, some of the biggest players in their field. Yet even then they’re only privy to the myth, the legend of the man. They only know whispers of whispers, tales second-third-fourth hand from a cousin’s uncle-in-law’s business partner’s nephew. He singlehandedly turned the tide of Bosnia. He took out an entire Spetsnaz team in a day with no outside help, leaving them somewhere nobody will ever find. He walked halfway across Afghanistan, toppled an international drug lord whose compound was in the way, and routed three different spies of three different countries without even speaking the language.

Nobody, not even the best, knows which is true and which is not. The almost-best know of Michael Westen but consider him to be a bogeyman or a propaganda tool blown out of proportion or a mythical scapegoat. Maybe, they think, if even half the stories are vaguely true, it’s a name that deeds of various groups have been attributed to. Very few actually believe him to be one real, tangible man.

Those few who do know there’s a man behind the name whisper stories to each other, without regard to formal allegiances because in this instant their only enemy is him. He grew up in an American prison, using his wits to survive in the toughest incarceration that side of the Atlantic, learning his trade from prison guards and drug kingpins and psychotic mass-murderers. He was part of a secret government program to create the perfect soldier, the best of the best kidnapped and brainwashed and trained to be better. He’s immortal. He’s a robot. Somehow, it all seems plausible.

Within that umbrella of believers is a very small number of men who have seen him, and known him for who he is. Top directors of their agencies call them into meeting so secret they’re never recorded and ask for a description that will never be drawn or written down. Each man has a different tale. He’s tall – no, short – no, medium height; thin and lean – no, built with blocks of muscle – no, wiry but strong; he’s American – no, Irish freelance – no, Belgium psychopath – no, Italian indebted to the US.

There’s only one thing they can agree on. He has a scar running down the left side of his face (from a knifed assassin – no, from dodging a bullet – no, from attack dogs), curving past and below his eye that crinkles when he shark-smiles at them.

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Uriel, more than a specialist - Uriel, in the lore, is said to be an archangel. Why isn't he one in the show?

[ravenspear.livejournal.com]

Supernatural; Meg; every demon was human, once upon a time.

[derekmetaltron.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Any Incarnation & Companion, Stepping into History.

[fluffmonkey.livejournal.com]

Barbara, Partially inspired by your awesome icon.

She'd never tell Ian, but secretly she didn't want to go home. Not really. She'd spent most of her life studying history, dreaming and wondering what it would be like to actually have been there. Her dreams were less about finding the perfect man or being rich or famous, and more about being a part of the French court before the revolution, in all it's finery, or sailing with Columbus. History was her mind's playground, and was it really any wonder that all she wanted to do with her life was share it with her students?
It didn't live up to her dreams, even without accounting for the vast majority of students blowing off her subject. There just weren't many people who shared her passion. Even Ian, whom she was quite fond of, didn't quite take her seriously.
And now, when she'd traveled with Marco Polo, witnessed the invention of fire, been an Aztec goddess, and so much more? How could she ever leave that? It was her childhood dream, impossibly coming true for her. It wasn't always pretty, and it was always dangerous, but she loved every minute of it.
She couldn't help but be grateful every time the Doctor failed to get them home, because it meant the dream would last that much longer.

[ravenspear.livejournal.com]

JourneyQuest (http://www.journey-quest.com/); Perf & any; He's going to be a legend. (Unfortunately.)

[ammcj062.livejournal.com]

Highlander, any, the Watchers tell stories about old Joe Dawson.

Ask the aged why they weep - PG, gen, future!fic

[tigriswolf]

For some, Joe Dawson is what they aspire to be—a human, friends with an immortal. More than one immortal. The best of them all, some say, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. And the oldest, the one who fooled everyone, pretending to be a human, pretending to be young... Methos, who had muddled his own chronicle so thoroughly nobody could untangle what was lie and what was fact.

(Joe Dawson, they say, laughed, and said, aren't those the same thing? history's written by the victor, and no one is more victorious than the Old Man.)

But to some, Joe Dawson is an old shame—the Watcher who interfered. Who cared. Who changed things, and not for the better.

Who told an immortal about the Watchers. Treason, choosing a race of murderers over his own kind, and daring to say that Duncan was the best man he’d ever known.

Joe Dawson is an embarrassment and a blight, and should have been executed, not praised. Not lifted high in the annals of the Watchers as what all should strive to be, not just recorders of dry facts, who went where and who beat whom, but why and what the immortals felt, and what they believed.

And one day, two hundred years after the Purge of the Hunters, after Joe Dawson died of old age, surrounded by his daughter and a few of his own students and half a dozen immortals, a young researcher named Matt Adamson opens a very old book, donated to the Watchers by Joe Dawson, and begins to read words he’d written three thousand years before.

[ammcj062.livejournal.com]

Leverage, any, the Leverage team uses a collective Dread Pirate Roberts-esque system.

(as in, they find & train replacements to carry on their legacy.)

pt 1

[daria234.livejournal.com]

They all get doubled eventually. It starts on a job with Parker meeting a 12-year-old girl named Kimmie with no one and nothing, and it's just too hard to convince Parker that they're not enough like a family to keep her. They see why Parker can't let go; the girl has blonde hair that falls in her face, and the same stubborn, confused look when things don't go her way.

Parker tries to teach her to steal, Sophie tries to teach her to grift, Hardison tries to teach her to hack (but just ends up playing WoW with her), but nothing takes. She has little talent for it, and less desire. Nate tries not to worry about whether they are warping this young mind, but he is quite outvoted.

Nate thinks that Eliot will be on his side at least, and at first Eliot is, and he's nice to the kid but tries not to get too close since as soon as they find someone they know personally to adopt her, he figures she'll be gone. Eliot gets it; they can't just leave her to someone who seems decent on the surface, especially given the crap parental figures most of the crew had, but secretly Eliot hopes maybe Maggie can be convinced to raise the girl. He talked about it with Sophie, and even she agreed that if Parker could be convinced, that might be best for the girl.

But then one day, Kimmie is just sick of hearing Hardison talk about which Chief Engineer best understands Star Fleet technological innovations, and she punches his shoulder.

His chair falls over and so does he.

She looks terrified for a second, like she thinks they're going to kick her out.

"I'm okay," Hardison says, springing back up to reassure her.

"Sorry," she says.

"It's fine," Hardison promises, but she doesn't believe him and she looks panicked still. She is about to run into the other room when Eliot blocks her way.

"We need to talk," Eliot says, solemnly.

"I won't do it ag-" she tries to say, but Eliot interrupts.

"First of all, that was hilarious. Second, you have real good power, but you need to work on your form."

Kimmie just stared for a second and then nodded. Eliot offered to show her a few things, and Kimmie nodded again.

[tardis-child.livejournal.com]

Angel the Series, Angel/Doyle: Human AU, two school teachers in 1940s Irland.

[alicat713.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Castiel(/Dean), It's just a myth that angels have no gender.

[51stcentry-jack.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who/Torchwood, Jack Harkness, Other days he's set the clock for, besides Volcano Day

[silvereyedphage.livejournal.com]

Yami no Matsuei, Muraki, Finding out what state secrets his grandfather knew about....

[odette-river.livejournal.com]

Historical RPF, Abraham Lincoln/Ann Rutledge, make the sound of silent thunder

[tigriswolf]

SG-1/Supernatural, author's choice, there are things older than you... and they no longer sleep

[tigriswolf]

Highlander/Athanor novels, Changer&Methos, the oldest of their kinds

[tigriswolf]

Highlander, Methos, he knows that the history books are wrong

fill

[tigerist.livejournal.com]

I remembered your Highlander/White Collar prompts and this is what came out:


Neal likes movies; he always had, ever since they were invented. He would drag Methos to the premieres, his smiles and bursting joy at having a new hobby almost invigorating, and Methos would sit in the cinema next to him, trying to pay attention to the movie on the silver screen to be able to discuss it with Neal later.

It doesn’t happen as often, now; Neal prefers the privacy of their apartment now, the freedom that the technology gave them with the home cinema systems and DVD players. But there’s one thing that hasn’t changed: Neal still prefers historic movies. At first he was watching mainly movies from the era of his childhood, drinking in the images of people wearing familiar clothes, and cringing at all the mistakes and inaccuracies. Then Neal started dragging Methos to movies telling about other times too, and asking him to point out all their errors, claiming he wanted to learn more about the history – the real history.

Methos almost declines.

He knows the history books are wrong; he was there, in the times about which they are written, he saw all of it with his own eyes, and he knows that what’s written in the books, is rarely true. It’s rarely objective. The books show someone’s truth, someone powerful enough to influence the historians to write down things according to their wishes, or someone’s wishful thinking, describing people and things in a better or worse way than they really were. He knows Neal knows it too, that he has already seen enough during the two centuries of his own life to be aware of it. But then he also knows Neal doesn’t know the extent of it, and he thinks he doesn’t want him to know. Not yet.

Neal still has this faith in humanity, this hope that there’s some intrinsic good in everyone, and that things can be better. That people can be better. Methos has long since lost that faith and he knows that if he were to tell Neal everything he wants to know, he would lost that faith. So he doesn’t tell Neal, needing him to believe, needing Neal to challenge him with faith, needing Neal to warm him up with his hope.

He keeps Neal in the dark, knowing he will figure it all out soon enough.