Dydd Mawrth: "Like A Disaster Movie"
Oct. 18th, 2016 04:30 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficGood morning, loyal commenters. I'm ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
evil_little_dog providing your second theme for the week.
Today's theme is Like a Disaster Movie. So, your prompt should involve the apocalypse (zombie or otherwise), tsunami, tornadoes, killer bees, giant icebergs, a sudden ice age...you get the idea.
The rules remain the same:
evil_little_dog providing your second theme for the week. Today's theme is Like a Disaster Movie. So, your prompt should involve the apocalypse (zombie or otherwise), tsunami, tornadoes, killer bees, giant icebergs, a sudden ice age...you get the idea.
The rules remain 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, please warn and leave plenty of space
Please format your prompts in the following manner:
Fandom, Character+/Character, Prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling:
Lucifer (tv), "Mum"+Lucifer Morningstar(+plus any additional as necessary), Ending the world sounds like such a good idea. To her, at least.
The X-Files, Fox Mulder+/Dana Scully, What's the plural of apocalypse?
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel, Buffy Summers+Slayers+Angel+Team Angel, All of them together in the same place must mean the end of the world.
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 option to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.
tag = Disasters
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no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 10:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 10:16 am (UTC)Fill--Dreadful Apocalypse
Date: 2016-10-18 03:30 pm (UTC)Dana Scully regards her partner with disfavor. It's early, and she is insufficiently caffeinated for a discussion of this magnitude. "As far as I know, it's apocalypses. Although since by definition, it's the end of the world, there would just be the one."
"Oh, I don't know." Mulder is exuding restless energy, and all his partner wants to do is get to the coffeemaker in the break room. ."You could have a zombie apocalypse, followed by earthquakes and volcanos erupting, and then aliens could invade--"
"The zombies would probably be a plague, the earthquakes and volcanoes are natural disasters, and the aliens might be friendly." She shakes her head. "I can't believe I just said that."
Mulder sighs. Clearly, she's being a buzzkill. Good. "Okay, but look at the seven plagues of Egypt in the Bible. I'm saying, if you had a whole bunch of disasters, one after another. Like there's a pride of lions, or a murder of crows...what would it be?"
"A dread of apocalypses," she says with conviction. The break room is in sight. "Because most people don't look forward to it as much as you do. Oh God, no!"
The coffeemaker bears an "Out of Order" sign that can be read from across the room.
"Don't worry, I'll buy you Starbucks on the way to our new case. Six people in Williamsburg are crying tears of blood." He glances over to see if the prospect intrigues her, but she's still gazing in horror at the defunct coffeemaker. "Cheer up, Scully--it's not the end of the world.".
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From:no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 10:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 10:19 am (UTC)Fill: A Somewhat Convenient Alien Invasion (Spies Are Forever, Curt/Owen + Barb)
Date: 2016-10-20 06:26 am (UTC)“Barb,” Curt whispers urgently into the communicator, “can you hear me?”
There's a sharp burst of static, then her voice, high with worry. “Curt, thank god you're safe! Is Owen with you?”
“Right here, love,” his partner mutters over his shoulder.
“Where are you guys?” is Barb's next anxious question.
“Stuck in a shady warehouse in Munich in the middle of a most inconvenient alien invasion,” Curt deadpans.
“Somewhat convenient,” Owen points out. “They did take out our targets for us.”
“A somewhat convenient alien invasion,” Curt amends. He peers around the stack of crates the two of them are hidden behind at the scaly green behemoths still prowling the area. “We may need some help getting out of here.”
“I'll do what I can, agents. What's your situation?”
“A dozen green brutes, a floor covered with human bodies and exploded boxes,” Owen mutters, “and a rather disturbing lack of equipment on my part, I must say.”
“Lack of equipment?” Barb echoes.
Owen bemusedly looks down at himself, and Curt follows his gaze – he's not wearing much more than his underwear and socks. “May have misplaced it,” he admits vaguely, sharing a grin with his partner. “Tell me you gave Curt something helpful; you know he never remembers.”
“Are you wearing the jacket I gave you?” Barb asks. “It'll allow you to-”
“No go,” Curt informs her. “Too hot.”
“Curt. When are you going to learn to actually keep the gadgets we have on you?”
Curt shrugs as Owen rolls his eyes fondly. “Maybe someday. What else?”
There's silence as Barb things for a moment. “The blue pen?”
Curt rifles through his pockets and comes up with one. “Yes?”
“You have that but not the jacket?”
“You never know when you'll have to write something. Can we discuss this another time?”
“We will,” Barb promises, a vague threat behind the words. “Obviously you weren't paying attention when I explained it to you, and you were lucky enough not to have tried to use it yet. Twist the middle part, click, and throw – knock-out gas. Be careful not to get yourselves.”
“I'd think we could figure that part out,” Curt says drying as he follows her instructions and tosses the pen across the room. The aliens turn at the noise, tilting their heads curiously at the object, then startling as the pen hisses and starts to emit a thick white fog. They don't have a chance of making it out of the room before the gas takes effect, and soon they're all unconscious on the floor.
“That was great – I could kiss you!” Curt exclaims.
“You always say that,” Barb says dreamily, but the agent doesn't seen to notice as he lead Owen through the mess, sleeves pressed to their mouths and noses to avoid the last of the gas, out toward their car. “What next?”
“Basically nothing is moving right now,” Barb explains, “so Cynthia says to head back to MI6 headquarters with Owen for the time being, and we'll try and get you home as soon as possible.”
“It's a plan. Thanks, Barb; I”ll be in touch.” He clicks off the communicator and looks over at Owen, who's strapping himself into the driver's seat.
“That was a nice save back there, old chap,” he says. “I could kiss you.”
“I wouldn't be opposed,” Curt responds casually, and Owen grins as he pulls him in by the collar to press their lips together.
no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 12:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 12:46 pm (UTC)Fill
Date: 2016-10-18 09:27 pm (UTC)http://archiveofourown.org/works/8318602
no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 12:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 12:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 12:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 01:44 pm (UTC)Xena Warrior Princess/Walking Dead, Xena + Gabrielle, dealing with zombies
no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 01:48 pm (UTC)Fill, original
Date: 2016-10-19 01:40 am (UTC)"Three unicorns? Then things start getting dicey. Is your kingdom ruled by King Haggard? Is there a giant red bull running around and you get awakened by unicorns bleating as the bull chases them away? Believe me, you have a problem.
"But more than three and no bull in sight? Better start packing because the end of the world's coming."
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Date: 2016-10-18 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 04:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 04:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 04:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 04:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 04:19 pm (UTC)Fill, Smoky Linings
Date: 2017-06-27 04:54 am (UTC)So when David runs out of his office to see why nobody's turned it off and sees a giant wall of fire in the hallway, he's honestly surprised.
He stands stock still and stares, and the first thing that goes through his mind is, Damn, there goes my elaphoglossum peltatum.
Then, of course, his brain kicks in, and he bangs on Radek's door and yells, "Fire!" as loud as he can. He and Radek make lots of noise on their way to the exit, joined by a growing number of colleagues. David stumbles a few feet from the door, and several people sweep past him. He's picking himself up when he hears it--something scratching on a closed door nearby.
Damn it; Rodney must have brought John's dog in again. He locks it in his office when he goes to lunch. David jiggles the doorknob and, yep, no going. The fire's close now, the entire left side of the labs engulfed. David coughs and slams his shoulder into the door as the last of his colleagues makes it out. The door shudders, but doesn't give. Again, and again, and there's black smoke fogging up his glasses, and it's getting harder and harder to breathe.
And suddenly there's a solid, heavy bulk beside him, pushing him aside and slamming into the door. David catches sight of fireman's bright yellow--and there's a lot of really loud yelling--but his attention's diverted as the door finally pops open. A small ball of fur--Lady Hedy von Lovelace--blasts past him, rocketing out through the open door. David stumbles, but he doesn't fall; the fireman catches him and helps him out.
David doesn't realize how little air he'd been getting until he stumbles outside into the crisp October breeze. He doubles over, hacking, and the firefighter has to all but drag him over to an ambulance.
Ten minutes later, the fire's out, Lady Hedy von Lovelace is happily licking the face of a firefighter with dreadlocks, and David's trying to convince a very unconvinced-looking EMT that he doesn't need to get checked out at the hospital when someone sneaks up behind him and sets a hand on David's shoulder.
David jumps, turns, and stops himself from cursing in favor of wondering, hopefully, whether firefighters still do shirtless calendars.
"That was really brave of you," the man says with a blinding smile. "Saving the dog."
"Uh," David says.
"Sure you don't want to get checked out?" The firefighter asks. The dark-blue, skin-tight shirt brings out his eyes and accentuates his biceps to a ridiculous degree. Faint black ink from a tattoo peeks out from the edge of the man's right sleeve.
David kind of wants to lick it.
"I mean," the man continues, ,"The fire station's right next to the hospital, and I'm off shift in an hour."
"Okay," David's mouth spits out before his brain catches up. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Radek throw up his hands, curse, and hand John, who's come to check on Rodney on the dog, a twenty-dollar bill, but he honestly doesn't care how much he's going to get teased about his date next week. "Yes, that--okay."
It's a shame about the elaphoglossum peltatum, David thinks as the ambulance sets off, but maybe even smoke clouds have a silver lining.
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Date: 2016-10-18 04:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 07:36 pm (UTC)author's choice, author's choice, having to put down someone [character] loves who's become a zombie
Fill
Date: 2016-12-05 04:54 pm (UTC)Re: Fill
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Date: 2016-10-18 07:37 pm (UTC)author's choice, author's choice, life after the supervolcano erupts
no subject
Date: 2016-10-18 07:38 pm (UTC)author's choice, author's choice, if zombies are dead, why are they hungry? do they expel waste somehow?
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Date: 2016-10-18 07:38 pm (UTC)Highlander, Methos + author's choice, dealing with any disaster