Wednesday: Opposites day!
Nov. 2nd, 2011 11:15 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
medjai-trowa.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficSo I had an oops moment yesterday - it's what comes of posting at the last minute when you're on the way out the door, so I'm sorry if the unchanged example prompts threw anyone!
Today though, today is opposites day! Is Kirk the science officer and Spock the captain? Is Neal Caffrey the FBI's best and brightest and Peter (led by El, obviously!) the cunning art thief? Are Dastardley and Muttley trying to win fair and square for once with all the other racers sabotaging them?
Important rule-y bit:
No more than 5 prompts in a row, no more than 3 per fandom. If someone answers a prompt, you may prompt again.
No spoilers in your prompts until 1 week after the original air/publication date.
If your fill contains spoilers, or you think it potentially could count as a spolier, please make sure sufficient space is left (with a warning) so that people can bypass it.
Please make sure that your prompts are in the following format:
Wacky Races, Dastardley and Muttley, "We weren't cheating! You lot were!"
White Collar, Neal/Peter/El, the only blot on his stunning career with the FBI is his inability to catch those two far too lucky by half art thieves!
Star Trek, Kirk/ or +Spock, "Interesting, Mr Kirk, I was unaware of the role of leaps of faith in the realm of science."
Have fun!
tag=opposites
Today though, today is opposites day! Is Kirk the science officer and Spock the captain? Is Neal Caffrey the FBI's best and brightest and Peter (led by El, obviously!) the cunning art thief? Are Dastardley and Muttley trying to win fair and square for once with all the other racers sabotaging them?
Important rule-y bit:
No more than 5 prompts in a row, no more than 3 per fandom. If someone answers a prompt, you may prompt again.
No spoilers in your prompts until 1 week after the original air/publication date.
If your fill contains spoilers, or you think it potentially could count as a spolier, please make sure sufficient space is left (with a warning) so that people can bypass it.
Please make sure that your prompts are in the following format:
Wacky Races, Dastardley and Muttley, "We weren't cheating! You lot were!"
White Collar, Neal/Peter/El, the only blot on his stunning career with the FBI is his inability to catch those two far too lucky by half art thieves!
Star Trek, Kirk/ or +Spock, "Interesting, Mr Kirk, I was unaware of the role of leaps of faith in the realm of science."
Have fun!
tag=opposites
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no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:22 am (UTC)Filled
Date: 2012-04-13 08:07 pm (UTC)"What?" he asks, and starts to turn around.
Her fingers dig into his shoulder, pull him around to meet her eyes. "Don't look, you'll get their attention," she hisses, with an distinct Irish accent that comes out of nowhere. She'd been vaguely British until fifteen seconds ago. "Do me a favor and laugh."
"Ah-ha-ha," Michael offers stiffly, smile tight and confused. He doesn't like being confused. This whole blind date idea had almost seemed like it would work out, but...
Fiona rolls her eyes and lets go of his shoulder. Whatever's behind Michael is holding her attention, still. "That'll do. You mentioned that you teach robotics?"
"Ye-es," Michael agrees. The hair on his neck is standing up; he can almost sense that something bad is behind him. He locks all the muscles in his back to keep from turning.
"That'll involve circuits, I assume? Wires and all that?"
"Yes," he agrees again. "Would you just tell me what's wrong?"
"That depends on whether you know how to defuse a bomb," she tells him. "Because someone just left one under the bar."
He stares at her. She meets his eyes with a sober nod.
"Well," he says, and takes a sip of his water. "The least I could do is try."
She blinks at his words and them beams at him - more sincere than what he'd gotten out of her for the rest of the date. "Let's get on it, then," she says, standing up. Her hand touches his shoulder again and slides down to his elbow.
Things move quickly after that, in a sharp tunnel-vision rush of adrenaline. Michael figures out how to defuse a bomb without a lot of room for trial and error.
They sneak back out of the coat room carefully, probably looking like they'd just had a quickie rather than sweating out the tension. Fiona's taking the briefcase full of explosives with her, just in case.
They go outside to stand on the curb and Michael itches for a cigarette, a habit long broken. He has to go teach a class tomorrow and try not to mention anything about bombs.
Fiona keeps glancing over and smiling at him while he thinks of something to say. She breaks the silence with, "I don't suppose you're up for a second date after all this?"
He frowns at her. "Of course I am. That's the most interesting thing to happen to me in years."
That gets the beaming smile again, and she kisses him sudden and quick. She adjusts the collar of his shirt and tells him, "For a teacher, you are full of surprises."
Re: Filled
From:no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:30 am (UTC)Fic: Live In Hope
Date: 2011-11-03 12:06 am (UTC)Ooops, and this one actually got too long for the comment box. Linked to my journal instead.
Title: Live In Hope
Rating/Warnings: PG13, swearing and minor character death
Length: 1920 words
Summary: Tosh had been chosen by Torchwood and they had used any means necessary to keep her.
Her multitasking skills are legendary within Torchwood.
no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 11:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 12:11 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-11-02 01:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 01:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 01:40 pm (UTC)Chuck, Chuck/Bryce, After Stanford, Chuck found and began working with his father; he had to send Bryce the Intersect, causing the CIA to consider Bryce a traitor and Bryce to wonder if Chuck did it for revenge.
no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 01:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 01:49 pm (UTC)fill - 1/2
Date: 2014-09-22 12:39 am (UTC)Bruce, he thinks. You didn't.
"His name is Jason Todd," Talia tells him. She's careful, quiet, looking to him for a reaction, and despite the training the League has provided him with, she gets one – a clenched jaw, eyes shut against the threat of tears.
"A street kid," Talia says. "The detective found him not long after we found you. Our sources say he had nothing, no parents, barely a roof over his head."
Dick wants to laugh, feels that bubbling up in him for all the wrong reasons. An orphan like him, probably scared and alone, something to prove, and Robin must've seemed like such a great idea.
Like the only choice, maybe.
"Are you –" Talia starts to ask, but Dick shakes his head. She steps up to him, and she's nearly as tall as he is. He's built, and trained, but still small for his age. Death found him, but the circus hasn't left him, and he's still made for quadruple flips and showy moves. He's not like Talia, not like the rest of them. The League took him in, but he won't be their killer. The fact that Talia let him live, after telling her that, is –
He's sure she's still working some sort of angle.
"I need to see him," Dick says. Talia starts to tell him he's not ready, that it won't do him any good, but he's not listening. He needs to see the boy who survived. The boy who must have listened to Bruce, once or twice, to still be breathing.
*
Jason is taller than he is. Bigger, too – he's built more like Bruce, and his moves are similar, more hard-hitting than quick-footed. He's not as quick as Dick was (is), but he can, maybe, take hits a little better than Dick could.
Most times when Dick sees them, they're working as a team. He listens to Jason's quips and can't help but laugh, wonders if Bruce tried to discourage all of that or just let it ride.
He wants to talk to Jason. Wants to know. He and Bruce are in the paper sometimes, the society columns about the pauper turned prince, and of course Batman and Robin are still making the headlines, but that's not enough. He wants to know if Jason really has become the golden child, if he's good.
The fact that he's still alive after all this time should tell him that. But.
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From:no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 02:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-03 08:57 am (UTC)John Smith was an ordinary guy. Very ordinary, really. The most ordinary bloke in the world, probably, except for the whole being gay and working in a women’s dress shop thing, which was still out of the ordinary even in the twenty-first century. They were working on that though. It was getting less unusual all the time.
It wasn’t his fault that he stopped being ordinary either. If he had his way, he wouldn’t have been down in the basement in the first place and he certainly wouldn’t have been attacked by plastic mannequins set on world domination, or rescued by a busty blonde girl in a leather jacket, way too much mascara, with an antisocial personality and waving around a buzzy, flashy thing.
She said her name was Rose and when he asked her “Rose who?” she smiled at him and said, “Just Rose.” It was Just Rose’s fault that John Smith stopped being ordinary.
Then the crazy woman shows up at his house, insults his mum and starts talking about aliens. Claims that she is an alien. John could admit that she was one weird girl, but she wasn’t an alien. No way. For one thing, she didn’t have any tentacles. If there were aliens out there, John fully expected them to come sporting tentacles. And ray guns, not little sticks with buzzing light bulbs on the end.
Rose called it her “sonic screwdriver” and said this with an air of importance. John Smith was not impressed. He’d heard faulty door-bells that sounded just like it. They were about as useful, too.
“That is not a screwdriver,” he said.
“It’s a sonic screwdriver,” Rose said.
“Oh, well that’s different then,” John said, rolling his eyes.
“Yep,” Rose said, and that was that.
John started to believe that maybe Rose was really an alien about the time his boyfriend, Mickey, was kidnapped and replaced with a plastic Mickey. Then everything just pretty much went to hell. Rose melted Mickey’s head, then flew them across London in a blue police box that was really a space ship to confront the big boss of the plastic people with something she called “anti-plastic” but which John called “rubbish.”
And then, for all of her clever alien tricks and in spite of John being a “stupid ape,” John had to save her from the plastic people and what would have surely been a horrible--and absurd--death. The day saved, a blubbering Mickey rescued, and all John wanted to do was go home. Home where nothing dangerous or weird ever happened and his mother would nag at him until he took another job he hated and things would go on as usual like that forever or at least until he died.
Really, that was all he wanted.
Except Rose had other ideas. She had to go and tell him that not only was the stupid blue box a space ship, it was a time machine and then John had to go and believe her because up until now, not believing her hadn’t really worked in his favor. So he had a choice to make. An incredible choice, a frightening choice, a choice like no other.
He was a selfish ass. He chose to leave, fairly ran for it when Rose held the door open for him and left Mickey there on the street, cowering to run off into the stars. Somewhere that he would not be ordinary. Not ever again. John Smith, time-traveler was going to see and do great things, the greatest things. He was going to travel through space and time beside a beautiful alien girl maybe he had developed a bit of a weird crush on her, but somewhere out there there had to be pretty alien boys who would set him straight again… or rather, not.
Either way, there was going to be an incredible amount of running involved.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 02:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 02:31 pm (UTC)