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edenfallingBatch the fifth. :)
All prompts drawn from the current iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon, hosted by the wonderfulrthstewart. Come join the fun!
Note: The first ficathon post is now closed to new prompts (though still open for fills and replies!), and you can find the new, second post at https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/168256.html.
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25. Forundeadrobins: any sci-fi/space fandom, any, from the point of view of a spaceship, written 2/9/21
Precious, Fragile Things (345 words)
Fandom = The Murderbot Diaries
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Perihelion is unsure it grasps the concept of privacy that its crew considers so important -- how can it not be aware of them when it forms the floors they walk on, the air they breathe, the feeds they manipulate? -- and while it can file visual input unexamined and backburner other data streams when a crewmember moves from a 'public' to a 'private' space, it still knows more about them than, it thinks, most humans would find comfortable to contemplate.
It's noticed that a lot of its guest passengers (on the sedate, in-system trips that are all it's permitted to take at this stage in its development) deliberately don't contemplate Perihelion's pervasive awareness, which makes understanding privacy even harder -- surely if a concept is central to someone's function, it shouldn't be so easily pushed aside.
"Dad says that's one of the way AI and humans are different," Iris tells Perihelion when it raises the question, matter-of-fact in the way Perihelion has categorized as 'explaining something so obvious to humans that the explanation has a greater than .5 probability of leaving Perihelion even more confused': "We can't compartmentalize whole processes like you, but we can shove things down and ignore them, no matter how central they are, if confronting them might break us; that doesn't work forever, and it can kind of screw us up, but it's like..." -- she trails off, then brightens -- "like a quick patch for a hull impact, just enough to get us through a voyage and back to dock where we can do a full repair."
Perihelion considers this analogy, finds it lacking on several technical levels, and files it for further interpretation. "Hull impacts are unpleasant," it tells Iris; "I'm looking forward to the installment of my defensive array."
Iris pats a bulkhead fondly, eyes tipped up toward the ceiling as if Perihelion's self can be said to be any more concentrated in that small stretch of its body than any other section; "I love you too, Peri, even if you are nosy and violent."
Perihelion flickers its lights in her face.
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26. Foreagleoftheninth: Any, any, 'only those with heart as light as feathers can cross over the Bridge of One Hair', written 2/9/21
None* Shall Pass (*See Fine Print for Details and Exceptions) (175 words)
Fandom = Enchanted Forest Chronicles
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"That is complete and utter nonsense," Morwen said firmly, "starting with the fact that a heart as light as feathers doesn't change the fact that the rest of the human body tends to weigh substantially more than nothing, and ending with the fact that this bridge is clearly made of multiple hairs -- I can see the braid pattern even without my glasses."
"I know, but you shouldn't say so," the enchantress hissed, casting a desperate glance toward the young dairymaid (whose quest Morwen had decided to accompany out of professional interest, dairymaids being somewhat rare among the normal run of princes and woodcutters' third sons); "It mucks everything up if they start relying solely on cleverness and forget that manners and some basic moral decency are equally important."
"I agree, but if you can't come up with a better grade of intimidating blather, that sounds like your problem, not mine," Morwen said, and snapped her fingers to set a spark under Miss Eliza Tudor's paw before she could test her claws against the enchanted bridge.
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27. For anonymous: Inception, Ariadne/Arthur, fireworks, written 2/12/21
Own the Night (220 words)
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"And what, Mister Professional Doubt, do you think of my fireworks show now?" Ariadne said, half-shouting to be heard over the deafening blast of the mid-show pseudo finale: pinwheels and flashbangs, whistlers and falling stars, and a carefully timed curtain of golden dust sparklers trailing down over the well-groomed suburban lakeshore.
Arthur glanced over to the neighboring blanket where Eames, forged into the target's long-regretted high school what-if (bad timing, social awkwardness, unfortunate weather -- Arthur didn't remember and didn't particularly care what had kept them from getting together and getting over the infatuation like most people did, instead of slipping into obsession) slipped a scrap of paper from the target's back pocket under cover of an enthusiastic grope, then looked back to Ariadne with a rueful smile and shrug: "I stand corrected; the nostalgia factor worked, the bangs haven't startled the subject into waking prematurely, and while the lack of mosquitoes is unrealistic, I appreciate your consideration in leaving them out."
Ariadne flicked her fingers toward Eames and the target without turning -- mouthed 'progress?' with a tilt of her head that would read as flirtatious to any watching projections -- then relaxed at Arthur's nod; "There are more enjoyable ways to suck your blood," she said with a gleeful wiggle of her eyebrows, and leaned in to give him a hickey.
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28. Forsnacky: Six of Crows, Kaz/Inej, Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts, written 2/12/21
And a Following Sea (180 words)
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"Fair winds, Wraith," Kaz says, and dares to tuck his cane into the crook of his elbow and offer both hands (gloved, of course, here in Fifth Harbor, so close to a thousand sweating bodies and the hungry sea) to Inej; she sets her own slim fingers over his own and lets him press their hands together in what feels half like a too-solemn version of a Kerch farmer's greeting and half like a (too-revealing) suitor's plea.
"Unfair deals," she says in return, and Kaz allows the corner of his mouth to quirk in a smile at the joke.
When she smiles in return, and reclaims her hands, and glides away to her waiting ship, Kaz forces himself to turn aside and walk toward the harbormaster's office for the business that nominally brought him here; it won't stop him from wondering how many times Inej can leave before he bleeds to death from each new cut of loss, but he refuses to mourn in advance of a funeral -- especially when, beyond all his hope and understanding, she keeps coming back.
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29. Forvialethe: Narnia, Susan &/ Edmund, at dinner parties I call you out on your contrarian shit
Eeling Contrary (190 words)
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"Beg pardon, but if I may steal a moment of my gracious sister's time," Edmund said, and whirled Susan away from the Terebinthian crown prince (and his entourage) without stopping to wait for a reply; as he threaded neatly through the crowded room, gesturing with his wineglass to ward off interruptions, he muttered under his breath, "I could read the cast of your countenance from a mile away; what incredible nonsense did you convince him to swallow this time?"
Susan smiled as if she hadn't a care in the world and said, "I merely explained the true origin of eels, which, as everyone in Narnia knows, are born when a hair from a horse's tail falls into river or pond; wouldst believe the poor man was convinced that, instead, eels are born when the first light of the spring moon falls on newly dampened mud?"
"Someday someone other than myself will call you out on your fabrications," Edmund said, but he knew Susan could read the laughter in his eyes just as clearly as he had read her contrarian glee, and resigned himself to many years more of running interference.
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30. Forvialethe: Narnia, Peter & Susan, that old familiar body ache/the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul/you know when it’s time to go
Make Your Choice (150 words)
---
"I think, when you're younger, it's easier to balance between two worlds," Susan says haltingly as she and Peter sit in the back garden -- he on the wall and she in the apple tree, flicking a blossom-heavy twig back and forth between her fingers -- "easier to believe six impossible things before breakfast, so to speak, and to accept that Narnia is still Narnia even after a thousand years instead of mourning what was lost."
"To see it as an adventure as much as a duty," Peter suggests, his ragged nails picking and picking at the mortar between the bricks.
"Yes," Susan agrees, fingers stilling; "They can still bend -- but you and me?"
She snaps the twig. Peter stifles a flinch.
"This is our world now, the only one left to us," Susan says as she leaps down from the apple tree, "and I plan to make the most of it."
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More to come as I write them. :)
All prompts drawn from the current iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon, hosted by the wonderful
rthstewart. Come join the fun!Note: The first ficathon post is now closed to new prompts (though still open for fills and replies!), and you can find the new, second post at https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/168256.html.
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25. For
undeadrobins: any sci-fi/space fandom, any, from the point of view of a spaceship, written 2/9/21Precious, Fragile Things (345 words)
Fandom = The Murderbot Diaries
-----
Perihelion is unsure it grasps the concept of privacy that its crew considers so important -- how can it not be aware of them when it forms the floors they walk on, the air they breathe, the feeds they manipulate? -- and while it can file visual input unexamined and backburner other data streams when a crewmember moves from a 'public' to a 'private' space, it still knows more about them than, it thinks, most humans would find comfortable to contemplate.
It's noticed that a lot of its guest passengers (on the sedate, in-system trips that are all it's permitted to take at this stage in its development) deliberately don't contemplate Perihelion's pervasive awareness, which makes understanding privacy even harder -- surely if a concept is central to someone's function, it shouldn't be so easily pushed aside.
"Dad says that's one of the way AI and humans are different," Iris tells Perihelion when it raises the question, matter-of-fact in the way Perihelion has categorized as 'explaining something so obvious to humans that the explanation has a greater than .5 probability of leaving Perihelion even more confused': "We can't compartmentalize whole processes like you, but we can shove things down and ignore them, no matter how central they are, if confronting them might break us; that doesn't work forever, and it can kind of screw us up, but it's like..." -- she trails off, then brightens -- "like a quick patch for a hull impact, just enough to get us through a voyage and back to dock where we can do a full repair."
Perihelion considers this analogy, finds it lacking on several technical levels, and files it for further interpretation. "Hull impacts are unpleasant," it tells Iris; "I'm looking forward to the installment of my defensive array."
Iris pats a bulkhead fondly, eyes tipped up toward the ceiling as if Perihelion's self can be said to be any more concentrated in that small stretch of its body than any other section; "I love you too, Peri, even if you are nosy and violent."
Perihelion flickers its lights in her face.
---------------
---------------
26. For
eagleoftheninth: Any, any, 'only those with heart as light as feathers can cross over the Bridge of One Hair', written 2/9/21None* Shall Pass (*See Fine Print for Details and Exceptions) (175 words)
Fandom = Enchanted Forest Chronicles
-----
"That is complete and utter nonsense," Morwen said firmly, "starting with the fact that a heart as light as feathers doesn't change the fact that the rest of the human body tends to weigh substantially more than nothing, and ending with the fact that this bridge is clearly made of multiple hairs -- I can see the braid pattern even without my glasses."
"I know, but you shouldn't say so," the enchantress hissed, casting a desperate glance toward the young dairymaid (whose quest Morwen had decided to accompany out of professional interest, dairymaids being somewhat rare among the normal run of princes and woodcutters' third sons); "It mucks everything up if they start relying solely on cleverness and forget that manners and some basic moral decency are equally important."
"I agree, but if you can't come up with a better grade of intimidating blather, that sounds like your problem, not mine," Morwen said, and snapped her fingers to set a spark under Miss Eliza Tudor's paw before she could test her claws against the enchanted bridge.
---------------
---------------
27. For anonymous: Inception, Ariadne/Arthur, fireworks, written 2/12/21
Own the Night (220 words)
-----
"And what, Mister Professional Doubt, do you think of my fireworks show now?" Ariadne said, half-shouting to be heard over the deafening blast of the mid-show pseudo finale: pinwheels and flashbangs, whistlers and falling stars, and a carefully timed curtain of golden dust sparklers trailing down over the well-groomed suburban lakeshore.
Arthur glanced over to the neighboring blanket where Eames, forged into the target's long-regretted high school what-if (bad timing, social awkwardness, unfortunate weather -- Arthur didn't remember and didn't particularly care what had kept them from getting together and getting over the infatuation like most people did, instead of slipping into obsession) slipped a scrap of paper from the target's back pocket under cover of an enthusiastic grope, then looked back to Ariadne with a rueful smile and shrug: "I stand corrected; the nostalgia factor worked, the bangs haven't startled the subject into waking prematurely, and while the lack of mosquitoes is unrealistic, I appreciate your consideration in leaving them out."
Ariadne flicked her fingers toward Eames and the target without turning -- mouthed 'progress?' with a tilt of her head that would read as flirtatious to any watching projections -- then relaxed at Arthur's nod; "There are more enjoyable ways to suck your blood," she said with a gleeful wiggle of her eyebrows, and leaned in to give him a hickey.
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28. For
snacky: Six of Crows, Kaz/Inej, Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts, written 2/12/21And a Following Sea (180 words)
-----
"Fair winds, Wraith," Kaz says, and dares to tuck his cane into the crook of his elbow and offer both hands (gloved, of course, here in Fifth Harbor, so close to a thousand sweating bodies and the hungry sea) to Inej; she sets her own slim fingers over his own and lets him press their hands together in what feels half like a too-solemn version of a Kerch farmer's greeting and half like a (too-revealing) suitor's plea.
"Unfair deals," she says in return, and Kaz allows the corner of his mouth to quirk in a smile at the joke.
When she smiles in return, and reclaims her hands, and glides away to her waiting ship, Kaz forces himself to turn aside and walk toward the harbormaster's office for the business that nominally brought him here; it won't stop him from wondering how many times Inej can leave before he bleeds to death from each new cut of loss, but he refuses to mourn in advance of a funeral -- especially when, beyond all his hope and understanding, she keeps coming back.
---------------
---------------
29. For
vialethe: Narnia, Susan &/ Edmund, at dinner parties I call you out on your contrarian shitEeling Contrary (190 words)
---
"Beg pardon, but if I may steal a moment of my gracious sister's time," Edmund said, and whirled Susan away from the Terebinthian crown prince (and his entourage) without stopping to wait for a reply; as he threaded neatly through the crowded room, gesturing with his wineglass to ward off interruptions, he muttered under his breath, "I could read the cast of your countenance from a mile away; what incredible nonsense did you convince him to swallow this time?"
Susan smiled as if she hadn't a care in the world and said, "I merely explained the true origin of eels, which, as everyone in Narnia knows, are born when a hair from a horse's tail falls into river or pond; wouldst believe the poor man was convinced that, instead, eels are born when the first light of the spring moon falls on newly dampened mud?"
"Someday someone other than myself will call you out on your fabrications," Edmund said, but he knew Susan could read the laughter in his eyes just as clearly as he had read her contrarian glee, and resigned himself to many years more of running interference.
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---------------
30. For
vialethe: Narnia, Peter & Susan, that old familiar body ache/the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul/you know when it’s time to goMake Your Choice (150 words)
---
"I think, when you're younger, it's easier to balance between two worlds," Susan says haltingly as she and Peter sit in the back garden -- he on the wall and she in the apple tree, flicking a blossom-heavy twig back and forth between her fingers -- "easier to believe six impossible things before breakfast, so to speak, and to accept that Narnia is still Narnia even after a thousand years instead of mourning what was lost."
"To see it as an adventure as much as a duty," Peter suggests, his ragged nails picking and picking at the mortar between the bricks.
"Yes," Susan agrees, fingers stilling; "They can still bend -- but you and me?"
She snaps the twig. Peter stifles a flinch.
"This is our world now, the only one left to us," Susan says as she leaps down from the apple tree, "and I plan to make the most of it."
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More to come as I write them. :)
