Friday - Free for All
Sep. 23rd, 2011 04:52 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
monica-catch22.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficHey guys, it's the weekend again! So let's get started with our usual free-for-all.
As always please follow our rules:
Only three posts per fandom, and only five total. If one of your prompts is answered, you may go ahead and post another.
No spoilers for new shows/seasons until a week after airing.
If your fill is spoilery, WARN accordingly in bold type and leave three spaces for people to pass on by. Please honor this when we're in the time of summer shows ending and new seasons starting up...
Please also honor and respect our codemonkeys by following the formula for posting:
X-Men FC, Charles/Eric, autumn leaves and leaf piles
Vampire Diaries/Glee, Quinn/Author's Choice, the Fabrays once were from Salem, and had mysterious ancestors....
Please remember to take a gander to the left at our lonely prompts if nothing here strikes your fancy.
And therefore... go forth and write!
As always please follow our rules:
Only three posts per fandom, and only five total. If one of your prompts is answered, you may go ahead and post another.
No spoilers for new shows/seasons until a week after airing.
If your fill is spoilery, WARN accordingly in bold type and leave three spaces for people to pass on by. Please honor this when we're in the time of summer shows ending and new seasons starting up...
Please also honor and respect our codemonkeys by following the formula for posting:
X-Men FC, Charles/Eric, autumn leaves and leaf piles
Vampire Diaries/Glee, Quinn/Author's Choice, the Fabrays once were from Salem, and had mysterious ancestors....
Please remember to take a gander to the left at our lonely prompts if nothing here strikes your fancy.
And therefore... go forth and write!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:03 am (UTC)can be Gen as well, I'm not picky
no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:28 am (UTC)No fill, Just love
Date: 2011-09-23 01:46 pm (UTC)Re: No fill, Just love
From:no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 09:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 10:21 am (UTC)Religion
Date: 2011-09-23 03:56 pm (UTC)*
Becky was scared and more than a little confused. She'd been posting to LJ and Dreamwidth and even some religious forums and no one really believed her. Mom said she was just dealing with Chuck's disappearance and changing jobs and she'd feel better if she moved back home.
But that was a total lie.
Chuck was gone, totally off the map. Becky had even gone to visit, before she called the cops, and the house looked like it always did. The only thing left was the final book about the Winchesters. Becky had taken that and didn't show the cops. They wouldn't understand.
She'd read the book more times than she could count. She'd scanned it, so it was on her laptop and her backup drive and her Kindle. It was the last thing Chuck wrote and it had a special note for her at the end.
Becky Rosen was a paralegal and a Webmistress and a fan of Supernatural and Buffy the Vampire Slayer (but not Angel) and Palahniuk. Chuck Shirley had been her most serious boyfriend to date and Mom had hope that she was finally going to get married. She had gone to college and done all the "right" things, never thinking that she would walk through the apocalypse, date a prophet, or find out that her obsession with books would turn into seeing another side of reality.
But Becky had a secret - that she didn't tell anyone, even the Internet - was that when her boyfriend disappeared, she didn't stop writing. Oh, samlicker81 stopped posting fanfiction and her boss was threatening to fire her if she didn't pull together. But she'd already filled her old 250 gig external and went out and bought a new one. It was all writing. And she couldn't stop.
Castiel had appeared to her in her dreams. So had the other angels, the ones who battled in heaven. She'd watched Sam and Dean and Bobby. She'd been there and seen it when Jo and Ellen were alive and then they weren't. And she couldn't stop.
Becky Rosen realised, somewhere between popping a Xanax and posting on ReligionFreaks, that this was why Chuck was drunk so often. Founding a religion - and Becky knew her grandmother was rolling in her grave - wasn't easy. Especially when you could never, ever stop.
Re: Religion
From:no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 10:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-19 08:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 11:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 12:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 12:09 pm (UTC)Your sword’s grown old and rusty
Burnt beneath the rising sun
It’s locked up like a trophy
Forgetting all the things it’s done
(Giving up the Gun by Vampire Weekend)
Fill: An Old and Rusty Sword
Date: 2011-09-24 11:29 pm (UTC)The sword is horribly corroded and notched. The leather around the handle had obviously rotted off years ago leaving a few stubborn patches behind. It would probably crack if it were ever used again. But for all its ruin, it is his sword. Its name is Devourer of Souls. Just seeing it again, he can feel the phantom weight of the sword on the palm of hand. His heart rate increases and he’s suddenly ravenous for a quickening. He wants desperately to challenge an immortal, any immortal, and feel the quickening pound into him. He would raise Devourer high above his head, to pierce the very heavens, and drink in the soul of his vanished opponent.
“Hey old man, see something of your?” MacLeod claps him on the shoulder and chuckles a bit at the running joke. He leans over the glass case to look at the description. He doesn’t know how close he came to dying. Not for making a joke, just for being immortal and being in Methos’ presence.
After they'd found out about him, Joe and Mac liked to tease him about visiting museums to see his old stuff, but it actually happens only rarely. Even on those rare occasions when he sees something of his, there’s always the faint doubt that maybe he’s just misremembering. He’s owned a lot of objects over the years, used a lot of tools. So seeing a familiar one in a glass case may mean that specific object had been his or merely that he’d had something similar. It’s his own version of deja vu.
But there was no way he could forget that sword, on display in the glass case.
Methos takes a careful breath.
“Huh. This brass sword is interesting.” MacLeod remarked. “They think it was probably a family heirloom. It was used intermittently for several centuries. It could have been one of us, I suppose, but was found hanging over the mantel of a house buried in a mudslide. I image an immortal would have gone back for it.”
Methos takes another careful breath.
The mountain itself had buried his wife, his sister-in-law and his mother-in-law along with the Devourer of Souls. He had known then that it was time to move on.
He had started changing his name after that. A new name for every life. He doesn’t name his swords any more, either. His current sword is a good one. Well balanced, and made by a professional swordsmith who works the Renaissance Faire circuit. Methos uses the sword as a tool and cares for it as a tool. It has no name, it has no expectations.
He looks at the sword locked up like a trophy in the museum. It’s old and rusty, its name long since gone. It is a mere relic and cannot call to him anymore. It has forgotten all that it has done and Methos will do nothing to remind it.
“Yes, yes, Mac. I’m sure it’s very interesting, but did you really drag me to this museum to look at scrap metal?”
Mac rolls his eyes. “I don’t know how you of all people can have no appreciation of the past. But no, there was something else I wanted to show you.”
They go to another room of the exhibit to look at some manuscripts, leaving behind a nameless sword, old and rusted, locked in a case.
Re: Fill: An Old and Rusty Sword
From:no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 12:10 pm (UTC)No fill, Just love
Date: 2011-09-23 01:43 pm (UTC)Re: No fill, Just love
From:no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 12:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 12:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 12:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 12:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-23 12:34 pm (UTC)