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caramelsilver's Three Sentence Ficathon. Here are the next six ficlets I wrote. (This time I managed to keep five of them within the structural restrictions, and the sixth only has four sentences, which is a pretty good ratio for me!)
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( 7. ) For samparker: Star Trek AOS, Gaila/Uhura, firsts, written 12/2/15 [AO3 version]
firsts (225 words)
Technically Nyota has been to space before -- the shuttle from Dar es Salaam to San Francisco crossed the Karman line in its trajectory -- but suborbital flights in a windowless cylinder (however nicely appointed, and that one wasn't very because Starfleet has better things to spend its funding on) aren't the same as actually reaching orbit, let alone flying to another celestial body.
Two months in to her first year at the academy, she stares out one of the myriad viewports on Spacedock Main where she and a quarter of this year's incoming cohort will spend the next three weeks in intensive cross-training; she's seen pictures and videos of Earth framed against the utter blackness of space since before she has conscious memories, and she can recite statistics about this facility for nearly an hour, but all her preparation can't stop the visceral, breathtaking awe of seeing her home so small and fragile down below.
"The first time I saw Orion Prime, we were running for our lives and half the viewport was scorched black from an orbital guard ship's lucky shot," Gaila says as she wraps her arms around Nyota's waist and drops a fleeting kiss to the skin beneath her left ear -- Nyota's breath catches again, for different reasons -- and adds, more softly, "I'm glad your first was better."
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( 8. ) For anonymous: Homestuck, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, pirates, written 12/2/15 [AO3 version]
the real treasure (250 words)
Dave considerately waited until Karkat was settling down onto the sofa (or into the sofa; it was a very tactile piece of furniture) with a copy of Moulin Rouge! in the DVD player, a box of tissues in one hand, and a remote in the other, before he dropped from the ceiling, pinned Karkat down with his own body weight, flourished a (really obviously plastic) bejeweled scimitar, and proclaimed, "Avast, matey, I claim this sadly be-sweatpanted booty in the name of the Free Rovers of Interstellar Barataria; ye be spoils of war!"
Karkat blinked dumbly upward for nearly ten seconds, eyes wide and slightly orange-tinted with shock (maybe the alchemized eyepatch was too far?) before he visibly rebooted his brain and drew breath for a patented hilari-terrible rant.
Dave cut him off: "Dude, I have seen your romance collection, billowy shirts and all, so don't even front; you are totally up for some dashing captain and virginal cabin boy and I know for a stone cold fact that Rose and Kanaya are canoodling in the library, Vriska and Terezi are snooze-sploring some dreambubbles, and your creepy clown chum is on official probation helping the Mayor reconstruct Can Town, so it looks like I have you all at my mercy, mwahahaha, now surrender your blushing charms or I'll make you walk the---mmmph!"
"Virginal my heaving bile sack," Karkat grumbled as he pulled back from the kiss, but he let the remote and tissues fall from his hands with a smile.
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( 9. ) For celeste9: MCU, any, in a bookshop, written 12/3/15 [AO3 version]
can't take you anywhere (225 words)
"I don't care if this is a front for the best fence in the fucking galaxy -- you brought Groot into a place filled with a million desecrated tree corpses!" Rocket snarled, prodding Peter with the business end of his latest experimental blaster; "And you say I've got to treat people with more consideration?"
Peter flicked a glance over Rocket's head -- a little trickier than usual, since his crewmate was perched on top of what had been a bookcase until a few minutes ago, and was still vaguely recognizable as such underneath the warping weight of vines and flowers -- and winced as Drax, always up for supporting a friend, especially if that support involved a fight, caught the outraged shop owner off the backspin of Gamora's kick and threw the hapless Sakaaran into his own cash register; there went another avenue for supplemental funds, to say nothing of the blow to their store of residual goodwill with Nova Corps when word inevitably got back to Xandar. "Yeah, whatever, chew me out later," he said, absently pushing the oversized gun away from his chest; "At the moment I'm more worried about how we're gonna get offworld before the local cops come down on our heads, so shut up and help me plan -- and no," he added reflexively, "shooting the cops is still not a solution!"
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( 10. ) For vialethe: MCU, Trish Walker/Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes + Jessica Jones, most awkward double date ever, written 12/4/15 [AO3 version]
in sunshine and in shadow (150 words)
"The last blond she dated got brainwashed into almost murdering her, and then turned out to be a revenge-obsessed hyper-violent drug addict," Jessica says.
"The last blonde he liked was an undercover agent sent to spy on him by his own employer, and also his first girl's great-niece," Bucky retorts.
They both glance toward the counter where Trish and Steve are laughing their way through an ice cream purchase, then resume their mutual glaring contest because this is going to go catastrophically wrong -- no matter how much Steve and Trish protest that they are grown adults and can handle a relationship without tempting fate or needing paranoid nursemaids; both Bucky and Jessica know the universe is a vicious motherfucker with the worst sense of humor imaginable -- and like hell will either of them let their best friend bear the brunt of the damage when things (hearts, secrets, worlds) inevitably explode.
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( 11. ) For caramelsilver: Harry Potter, cisgirl!Harry, what changes?, written 12/4/15 [AO3 version]
in a yellow wood (250 words)
She has Lily's eyes, but her father's big ears and hopelessly cowlicked hair overshadow them -- not a pretty child in the slightest, Petunia thinks, and ten gets you one she'll need glasses by the time she starts school; there's nothing about her to make Dudley feel insecure the way Lily made Petunia feel shabby and wanting just by breathing. She might have her mother's quick wit, and of course she'll have inherited magic from both sides, but... but Lily spun butterflies out of sunlight when they were girls, and made Petunia bounce one time instead of breaking her arm when she fell from a tree, and so magic in and of itself can't be wholly pernicious, just what it does to those who think a bit of power means they can lord themselves above everyone else; perhaps if she teaches her niece to see the dangers of the magical world as well as its surface temptations, to know what killed her parents, that won't bring disaster down upon her own son.
Petunia sets up a crib in the spare room and tucks Harry (dreadful nickname, she thinks; pity Angharad is such a mouthful and hasn't any other obvious shortenings) to sleep with the smallest and least-loved of Dudley's toys; she won't love the girl -- not now, maybe not ever -- but there's a vast kingdom between love and hatred, and if nothing else, she'll have the satisfaction of taking better care of Lily's daughter than Lily would ever have managed for Dudley in return.
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( 12. ) For idhren24: Batman or Daredevil, any, 'The Image of the City' / urban way-finding, written 12/5/15 [AO3 version]
images unseen (175 words)
The midterm project for his urban studies course involves making a mental map of St. Joseph's campus, based on Kevin Lynch's elements, so everyone in the class can compare and contrast the way they experience the same small stretch of physical space; while drawing is obviously out, Matt builds a lumpy model out of Play-Doh to accompany his verbal presentation and thinks long and hard about how to explain landmarks based on scent and sound, and the increased importance of edges when any venture into unfamiliar districts comes without the navigational crutch of reading street signs or orienting around visual landmarks from a distance.
He leaves half his paths unmarked and a full third of his landmarks unspoken. The freedom he finds on midnight rooftops is a private thing, and no matter how much he can do that a normal blind person can't, those gifts have nothing to do with passing this course: he doesn't need any distractions on his path through undergrad to law school (from node to node, he thinks, a bit wryly), and so, of course, he lies.
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Note: The timing of Matt and Foggy's first meeting in the MCU is unclear -- some elements of that scene suggest law school while others suggest undergrad. I am working on the assumption that they met in law school, that Foggy also went to Columbia as an undergrad, and that Matt did his undergrad studies elsewhere but still in NYC -- hence St. Joseph's.
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And now I should probably do some real-world productive stuff...
caramelsilver's Three Sentence Ficathon. Here are the next six ficlets I wrote. (This time I managed to keep five of them within the structural restrictions, and the sixth only has four sentences, which is a pretty good ratio for me!)---------------
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( 7. ) For samparker: Star Trek AOS, Gaila/Uhura, firsts, written 12/2/15 [AO3 version]firsts (225 words)
Technically Nyota has been to space before -- the shuttle from Dar es Salaam to San Francisco crossed the Karman line in its trajectory -- but suborbital flights in a windowless cylinder (however nicely appointed, and that one wasn't very because Starfleet has better things to spend its funding on) aren't the same as actually reaching orbit, let alone flying to another celestial body.
Two months in to her first year at the academy, she stares out one of the myriad viewports on Spacedock Main where she and a quarter of this year's incoming cohort will spend the next three weeks in intensive cross-training; she's seen pictures and videos of Earth framed against the utter blackness of space since before she has conscious memories, and she can recite statistics about this facility for nearly an hour, but all her preparation can't stop the visceral, breathtaking awe of seeing her home so small and fragile down below.
"The first time I saw Orion Prime, we were running for our lives and half the viewport was scorched black from an orbital guard ship's lucky shot," Gaila says as she wraps her arms around Nyota's waist and drops a fleeting kiss to the skin beneath her left ear -- Nyota's breath catches again, for different reasons -- and adds, more softly, "I'm glad your first was better."
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( 8. ) For anonymous: Homestuck, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, pirates, written 12/2/15 [AO3 version]the real treasure (250 words)
Dave considerately waited until Karkat was settling down onto the sofa (or into the sofa; it was a very tactile piece of furniture) with a copy of Moulin Rouge! in the DVD player, a box of tissues in one hand, and a remote in the other, before he dropped from the ceiling, pinned Karkat down with his own body weight, flourished a (really obviously plastic) bejeweled scimitar, and proclaimed, "Avast, matey, I claim this sadly be-sweatpanted booty in the name of the Free Rovers of Interstellar Barataria; ye be spoils of war!"
Karkat blinked dumbly upward for nearly ten seconds, eyes wide and slightly orange-tinted with shock (maybe the alchemized eyepatch was too far?) before he visibly rebooted his brain and drew breath for a patented hilari-terrible rant.
Dave cut him off: "Dude, I have seen your romance collection, billowy shirts and all, so don't even front; you are totally up for some dashing captain and virginal cabin boy and I know for a stone cold fact that Rose and Kanaya are canoodling in the library, Vriska and Terezi are snooze-sploring some dreambubbles, and your creepy clown chum is on official probation helping the Mayor reconstruct Can Town, so it looks like I have you all at my mercy, mwahahaha, now surrender your blushing charms or I'll make you walk the---mmmph!"
"Virginal my heaving bile sack," Karkat grumbled as he pulled back from the kiss, but he let the remote and tissues fall from his hands with a smile.
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( 9. ) For celeste9: MCU, any, in a bookshop, written 12/3/15 [AO3 version]can't take you anywhere (225 words)
"I don't care if this is a front for the best fence in the fucking galaxy -- you brought Groot into a place filled with a million desecrated tree corpses!" Rocket snarled, prodding Peter with the business end of his latest experimental blaster; "And you say I've got to treat people with more consideration?"
Peter flicked a glance over Rocket's head -- a little trickier than usual, since his crewmate was perched on top of what had been a bookcase until a few minutes ago, and was still vaguely recognizable as such underneath the warping weight of vines and flowers -- and winced as Drax, always up for supporting a friend, especially if that support involved a fight, caught the outraged shop owner off the backspin of Gamora's kick and threw the hapless Sakaaran into his own cash register; there went another avenue for supplemental funds, to say nothing of the blow to their store of residual goodwill with Nova Corps when word inevitably got back to Xandar. "Yeah, whatever, chew me out later," he said, absently pushing the oversized gun away from his chest; "At the moment I'm more worried about how we're gonna get offworld before the local cops come down on our heads, so shut up and help me plan -- and no," he added reflexively, "shooting the cops is still not a solution!"
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( 10. ) For vialethe: MCU, Trish Walker/Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes + Jessica Jones, most awkward double date ever, written 12/4/15 [AO3 version]in sunshine and in shadow (150 words)
"The last blond she dated got brainwashed into almost murdering her, and then turned out to be a revenge-obsessed hyper-violent drug addict," Jessica says.
"The last blonde he liked was an undercover agent sent to spy on him by his own employer, and also his first girl's great-niece," Bucky retorts.
They both glance toward the counter where Trish and Steve are laughing their way through an ice cream purchase, then resume their mutual glaring contest because this is going to go catastrophically wrong -- no matter how much Steve and Trish protest that they are grown adults and can handle a relationship without tempting fate or needing paranoid nursemaids; both Bucky and Jessica know the universe is a vicious motherfucker with the worst sense of humor imaginable -- and like hell will either of them let their best friend bear the brunt of the damage when things (hearts, secrets, worlds) inevitably explode.
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( 11. ) For caramelsilver: Harry Potter, cisgirl!Harry, what changes?, written 12/4/15 [AO3 version]in a yellow wood (250 words)
She has Lily's eyes, but her father's big ears and hopelessly cowlicked hair overshadow them -- not a pretty child in the slightest, Petunia thinks, and ten gets you one she'll need glasses by the time she starts school; there's nothing about her to make Dudley feel insecure the way Lily made Petunia feel shabby and wanting just by breathing. She might have her mother's quick wit, and of course she'll have inherited magic from both sides, but... but Lily spun butterflies out of sunlight when they were girls, and made Petunia bounce one time instead of breaking her arm when she fell from a tree, and so magic in and of itself can't be wholly pernicious, just what it does to those who think a bit of power means they can lord themselves above everyone else; perhaps if she teaches her niece to see the dangers of the magical world as well as its surface temptations, to know what killed her parents, that won't bring disaster down upon her own son.
Petunia sets up a crib in the spare room and tucks Harry (dreadful nickname, she thinks; pity Angharad is such a mouthful and hasn't any other obvious shortenings) to sleep with the smallest and least-loved of Dudley's toys; she won't love the girl -- not now, maybe not ever -- but there's a vast kingdom between love and hatred, and if nothing else, she'll have the satisfaction of taking better care of Lily's daughter than Lily would ever have managed for Dudley in return.
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( 12. ) For idhren24: Batman or Daredevil, any, 'The Image of the City' / urban way-finding, written 12/5/15 [AO3 version]images unseen (175 words)
The midterm project for his urban studies course involves making a mental map of St. Joseph's campus, based on Kevin Lynch's elements, so everyone in the class can compare and contrast the way they experience the same small stretch of physical space; while drawing is obviously out, Matt builds a lumpy model out of Play-Doh to accompany his verbal presentation and thinks long and hard about how to explain landmarks based on scent and sound, and the increased importance of edges when any venture into unfamiliar districts comes without the navigational crutch of reading street signs or orienting around visual landmarks from a distance.
He leaves half his paths unmarked and a full third of his landmarks unspoken. The freedom he finds on midnight rooftops is a private thing, and no matter how much he can do that a normal blind person can't, those gifts have nothing to do with passing this course: he doesn't need any distractions on his path through undergrad to law school (from node to node, he thinks, a bit wryly), and so, of course, he lies.
-----
Note: The timing of Matt and Foggy's first meeting in the MCU is unclear -- some elements of that scene suggest law school while others suggest undergrad. I am working on the assumption that they met in law school, that Foggy also went to Columbia as an undergrad, and that Matt did his undergrad studies elsewhere but still in NYC -- hence St. Joseph's.
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And now I should probably do some real-world productive stuff...
