A rainy Tuesday - Theme: Weather
Mar. 4th, 2014 10:21 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficHi guys! Your theme today is weather. Your prompt can be anything weather related, from a calm day at sea, to a thunderstorm, to a tornado that uproots houses and drops them in alternate universes.
I'm still![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hobnailedboots and the rules are still the same:
-No more than five prompts in a row.
-No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
-No spoilers in prompts.
-If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space.
-If your prompt is filled, you may prompt again
Prompts should be formatted as follows:
Fandom, Character+/Character, Prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ Pirates of the Caribbean, Jack Sparrow(/Commander Norrington), calm day at sea
+ Teen wolf, any, thunderstorm on the full moon
+ The Walking Dead, any, a tornado that uproots Hershel's farm and drops the group (and a few walkers) in Oz.
Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Visit the lonely prompt archive and brighten someone’s day. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.
tag=weather
I'm still
hobnailedboots and the rules are still the same:-No more than five prompts in a row.
-No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
-No spoilers in prompts.
-If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space.
-If your prompt is filled, you may prompt again
Prompts should be formatted as follows:
Fandom, Character+/Character, Prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ Pirates of the Caribbean, Jack Sparrow(/Commander Norrington), calm day at sea
+ Teen wolf, any, thunderstorm on the full moon
+ The Walking Dead, any, a tornado that uproots Hershel's farm and drops the group (and a few walkers) in Oz.
Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Visit the lonely prompt archive and brighten someone’s day. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.
tag=weather
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 08:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 08:57 pm (UTC)Rain or Shine
Date: 2014-03-05 06:42 am (UTC)"Someone has to do something."
It had been his decision, Miles can't forget that. Can't forget how Bass had followed him into it with unquestioning loyalty. At some point protecting the weak had become forming a militia had become forming a republic. Despite the battles and blood, Miles can't help but feel a little incredulous at how easily it had fallen into place. Together they were the storm, he and Bass. The President of the Monroe republic and the valiant general at his side.
But storms are rarely forces of peace. President became dictator; the valiant general became the Butcher of Baltimore. Until Miles hated himself, hated what he'd become, what he'd made Bass into. He hated the cacophony of violence and bloodshed and the fear and anger he saw in Bass's eyes when he'd once seen nothing but love.
So he left.
And rain or shine, his only solace now is to try and drink away the storm.
Re: Rain or Shine
Date: 2014-03-05 07:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 08:58 pm (UTC)Fill : Better Things to Do
Date: 2014-03-04 10:15 pm (UTC)Veronica lies on her side, looking out her bedroom window. Grey clouds cover the normally blue sky while sheets of rain beat a steady tattoo against the glass. The unaccustomed noise had woken her up hours ago and she'd slept fitfully since then. It's now long past the time when she should be getting up, even if it is Sunday, but the weather outside isn't giving her any reason to move.
She's willing to admit, it's not just the weather.
Not when Weevil's body is pressed against her back, keeping her warm under the covers. Every now and then, his fingers trace patterns over her skin; sometimes it's his lips pressing against the skin of her neck and shoulders.
She's in no hurry to leave.
"It's like the song, Chica," he tells her now, voice rough with sleep and something more. "It never rains in California... it pours."
Veronica lifts one eyebrow. In this position, she can't exactly tilt her head but when she cranes her neck around to meet his eyes, she's fairly sure it's implied. "You're not going to start singing on me, are you?"
"Nah." Weevil's lips are smiling, but his eyes speak to another emotion altogether. "I've got better things to do."
Re: Fill : Better Things to Do
From:Re: Fill : Better Things to Do
From:Re: Fill : Better Things to Do
From:no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 09:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 09:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 09:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 10:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 10:12 pm (UTC)College years Rhodey and Tony
Date: 2014-03-05 12:07 am (UTC)"If you build a snowman, you're being cool," Tony said, flicking erasers at the ceiling for some annoying reason, "If I build a snowman it's because I'm a 15-year-old 'kid.'"
"Come on, it doesn't have to be a snowman," Rhodey said, catching one of the erasers and flicking it back at Tony. "We can build whatever you want. Snow fort?"
Tony frowned. "We should think bigger."
"Snow Godzilla?" Rhodey said with a grin.
Tony laughed. "That would be awesome, actually. But I was thinking something that would go down in history?"
Rhodey's jaw twitched. "Knowing you, that means it'll either be awesome or the stupidest idea in the history of ideas."
Tony preened at the compliment. "C'mon dude, you know it'll be both."
--
"Whooohhoo!!!" Rhodey and Tony yelled, grinning widely in the cold-sharp wind as they flew another circle around the library.
"I can't believe you made a snow-jet!" Rhodey laughed.
"We -- nice job on the hydraulics, buddy," Tony said.
"Whoa, why are we--?"
"We're running out of dry ice!" Tony said, "Steer that way! That way!"
Soon the small aircraft was landing in the quad, bumpy but safe (mostly safe - luckily no one was hit by the ice wing that cracked off and flew into the air).
They both sat there gasping for air.
"You okay?" Rhodey said, turning to Tony.
"Yeah. You?" Tony said.
"Yeah," Rhodey said. They were both still panting. "So those high-pitched screams coming from our plane?"
"That definitely wasn't us. That was from the air moving against the texture of the, um, sides of the, uh, thing."
"Yeah, that was obviously what happened."
They climbed out of the crumbled remains of the snow jet, slow and careful.
Tony slapped Rhodey's elbow and said, "That was still totally awesome, right?"
Rhodey put his arm around Tony's shoulders. "Totally."
Re: College years Rhodey and Tony
From:Re: College years Rhodey and Tony
From:no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 10:59 pm (UTC)Mini-fill
Date: 2014-03-04 11:46 pm (UTC)"It never stops raining in Portland," he observes.
"Can't rain forever," Eliot says sleepily, snaking a muscular arm around Nate's waist. He leans closer, his breath hot as he rests his head against Nate's shoulder.
Nate runs his fingers through Eliot's hair. He sees the prodding, Eliot's unsubtle desire to make him look at the world with a little more optimism, a little more hope.
He should probably be resentful, but he must just be too tired for that.
Nate turns to kiss Eliot on the lips, slow, heavy. "I guess having a reason to stay inside isn't the worst thing in the world."
Eliot grins and kisses him again, rougher, playful, hands wandering up Nate's chest. "Now you're talkin'."
no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 11:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 08:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 11:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-04 11:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 12:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 12:42 am (UTC)Fill: Revolution, Miles Matheson, rain always washes away blood
Date: 2014-03-05 02:38 am (UTC)He remembers the day the sky wept for the soul of Miles Matheson.
It had been raining for three days when they marched into Baltimore. The bombers had gone in first, leaving a mix of mud and blood underfoot that sucked them down with every step. The local militia had piled corpses on the barricades, and if a gap happened to appear, well, they just shot someone to fill it.
The kid couldn't have been six or seven, and he'd scurried out to throw rocks at the invaders, before darting back into the ranks of the Baltimore reserve. His scream had echoed across the gap and Miles was still wondering “what the fuck” when the sword slit the kid's throat from behind.
He remembers the way the words had felt in his throat, that order that had changed his life. “Kill them all!” he had bellowed, and they had. Miles had used his last round to take out the filth sheltering behind the kid's corpse, and then pulled out his sword. It felt cleaner, somehow, even if his progress across the gap drenched them all in a red mist that the rain couldn't wash away.
He'd run up the flag himself that day, and his hands had been dirty. They would point to that handprint later, and sneer. The bloody mark of the Butcher of Baltimore.
Hate rolls in slow, but that's how it started. He remembers flinching at his own name. The great General Matheson. The guy with the mission, and the means to get it done. He was Wolverine, and the Winter fucking Soldier, and every assassin that ever lived. Too damn good at killing, and slowly dying inside.
'Course, those dudes didn't have Bass pointing them at half the continent like the blunt fucking weapon he'd become. One more city, one more campaign, one more band of rebels ... all for the greater good, he told himself.
Until there was only one more death he could justify, and he's right there, staring right down the barrel, and Bass is grinning at him, because he knows what's going to happen. He can't do it. Not his best friend. Even for the greater good.
So he ran, and it rained, and for a while there, he thought he might be able to escape the bloody past. Not being Miles Matheson helps, so he hides out in his casino and gets himself grimy with grog and girls and too much forgetting.
Until Charlie comes, and it's the killer she needs. Miles Matheson, the Butcher of Baltimore. No one hates that prick more than he does, but hey, it's the right thing to do. Even if his bold, brave niece doesn't know exactly what that means yet.
She'll learn, though. Blood will flow. All for the greater good. And the sky will weep for the soul of another Matheson.
Re: Fill: Revolution, Miles Matheson, rain always washes away blood
From:no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 08:22 am (UTC)