[Fic] wherein Liz is bored and willing to write on command

[edenfalling]

I am bored and attempting to stay awake. I am also, alas, out of inspiration for all my WIPs. So am I asking for prompts!

Give me a character or ship PLUS a scenario | setting | mood | line of dialogue, and I will try to write you a three sentence ficlet.

ETA: Prompts are closed! Thank you to everyone who contributed. :-)

---------------

1. lost in translation: 50 words, Dave/Jade, lost in translation. For missgvc (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

2. picnic at 20,000 feet: 125 words, Rose/Sollux, on a plane. For bramblemouth (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

3. Poor Communication: 250 words, Miles Vorkosigan & the Faceless Old Woman Who Lives in Your House, "He would have told her if she'd asked." For sablin27 (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

4. A Likely Story: 275 words, Ayakawa Yukiko being amused at the antics of Naruto and Sasuke (who are temporarily allied because they're conspiring together about something). For wistfulmemory (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

5. High Wire: 425 words, Natasha Romanova (Avengers) & Parker (Leverage) - "That is not happening." For sablin27 (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

6. Inconvenient Truths: 200 words, Arthur Pendragon & Susan Pevensie, diplomatic immunity. For rthstewart (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

7. The Taste of Madeleines: 350 words, Luna Lovegood, Wrackspurts and brain farts. For rthstewart (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

8. Perchance To Dream: 350 words, Ariadne & Arthur, favorite books. For hungrytiger11 (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

9. Going Native: 150 words, Giles, no eating or drinking in the library. For rthstewart (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

10. The Test of Good Manners: 425 words, Amanda and Sarek, a moment of perfect understanding. For rosaxx50 (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

11. This Is Not an After-Action Review: 375 words, Natasha Romanova & Parker, Stark's reaction to their awesomeness. Tiny sequel to High Wire. For wistfulmemory (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

12. Rattle the Cage: 800 words, Gaila/Natasha Romanoff (Trek/MCU), undercover. For geiszlerandgaila (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

13. Small Favors: 450 words, Ayakawa Yukiko, Kakashi, and fireworks that aren't the typical festival fireworks. For wistfulmemory (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

14. Hnaflbaflwhiflsnifltafl: 275 words, Edmund Pevensie & Lord Vetinari, comparing the intricacies of governing/spying in Narnia and Ankh Morpork. For priscipixie (Tumblr link; AO3 version)

Comments

[Fic] "lost in translation" -- Homestuck

[edenfalling]

missvgc said: Dave/Jade, lost in translation

-----

"I want to protect you, so please don't worry about me -- my pain doesn't matter. As long as you're alive and happy, I'll pay any price."

It's funny how two people can spend years saying the exact same thing to each other without ever hearing the echo.

[Fic] "picnic at 20,000 feet" -- Homestuck

[edenfalling]

bramblemouth said: Rose/Sollux, on a plane

-----

They set up their picnic on the wing of a Boeing 747: egg-salad sandwiches, a cheese platter with assorted fancy crackers, tortilla chips and grubsauce to dip them, grapes and apples and carrots, celery sticks filled with peanut butter and raisins, Red Bull and red wine, and a pair of Jane's cupcakes for dessert. The psionic shield holding them in place and maintaining breathable air shimmers and flexes under the force of the wind, tiny forks and spears of red-and-blue lightning lending an otherworldly glow to their faces and the silver-white paint of the wing.

"Gremlinth, my fucking ath; everyone knowth they can't even fly!" Sollux says again as yet another frightened face peers through the airplane's windows, and Rose smirks to herself with the satisfaction of a job well done.

[Fic] "Rattle the Cage" -- Star Trek: AOS/MCU

[edenfalling]

geiszlerandgaila said: If you're still doing the prompts, Gaila/Natasha Romanoff (Trek/MCU), undercover. :)

-----

"So how soon until you bring these rotten fungus-eaters down?" the green alien asked brightly -- in Russian -- as Natasha unlocked the door and pushed her cart into the room where one of Strucker's rogue lieutenants kept his prized acquisition.

Natasha blinked in perfectly simulated incomprehension. "I don't speak alien, sweetheart. Now hush up and let me do my damn job." She pulled a synthetic rag and a spray bottle of bubblegum pink chemical cleaner out of her cart and set them on a desk, then bent to retrieve the wastebasket and empty it into her trash bin.

"Oh, please," the alien said, crossing her legs neatly as she perched, stark naked, on the thin, narrow mattress wedged into the corner of her cage. "You can fool them, but you can't fool me. Your pheromones are all out of whack for your words and your body language is too smooth to be natural. You're here undercover, and I'd bet half of Starfleet that you're not trying to grab me for your own ethically bankrupt lab. So how soon until you make your move?"

Natasha sprayed the rag with the cleaner -- cheap shit, smelled way too much of ammonia -- and swished it vaguely across the computer desk. "Still don't speak alien, honeybunch. But you've got an okay voice. You wanna play songbird, be my guest -- just keep it to a dull roar."

The alien laughed. "I'm not actually speaking whatever language you're hearing, you know. That's all my best friend's subcutaneous translator chip -- I was testing it for her when the dimensional anomaly hit our ship. You're hearing your first and deepest language, which is obviously something you're pretending not to understand, and that means if this room had audio pickups, you'd have blown your cover wide open by now." She grinned, cheerful and toothy in Natasha's peripheral vision. "But hey, no hard feelings! I'm not going to rat out the first chance of help I've seen in ages. If you can get me a few minutes alone with that computer, I guarantee I can shut down their whole security system."

"And then what?" Natasha said in the same dismissive tone as before, no hint in her expression or actions showing that she'd switched to Mandarin Chinese.

"And then we get the hell out of here and hopefully you hook me up with some slightly less antiquated technology so I can signal my ship to rescue me from your era and reality," the alien said without missing a beat, her words still reaching Natasha's ears as Petrograd-accented Russian. "No offense, but the hospitality stinks."

"I don't work for free," Natasha said.

The alien snorted. "Psssh, try that on someone who can't read you like an open book. I'm not going to double-cross you. I'm not going to hand out futuristic technology like candy either -- there are laws against that, in my world and time -- but if I get a little careless and let a few hints slip... well, nobody but us ever has to know, right?"

Natasha finished her dusting and returned the synthetic rag and spray bottle to her cart. She lifted the mop from its bucket, wrung out the excess water, and began to swipe it over the floor.

"Do time units convert?" she asked.

"Federation Interstellar is based on Terran Standard units," the alien said. "I'm Gaila of House Amet, by the way. I don't know if you care, but it's polite to introduce yourself to a temporary out-net partner, and it's not like you have access to any network where you could look me up."

"A guard will check on you in twenty-six minutes," Natasha said as she shoved the mop into a corner and twisted it to pick up a stubborn dust bunny. "I'll come back ninety seconds after he leaves. I can loop the cameras for three minutes, but after that the failsafe will kick in."

"Five would be better, but I can work with three," the alien said. "And hey, bring some clothes? I don't mind, but I know Terrans are weird about nudity."

"I'll do better. I'll bring you a gun." Natasha wrung her mop out again and looked around the room with the bored eye of a janitor who has spent far too much time on her feet to care about doing more than the bare minimum. "You can call me Natalie."

"Not your real name, but close enough, and pretty, too. Natalie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," the alien said, and leaned back on her mattress like she didn't have a care in the world. "See you in twenty-five and a half minutes."

Natasha swiped her ID card over the electronic lock and maneuvered her cart out through the door.

She didn't look back once.

-----

Yeah, still doing these prompts! You seem to have hit the jackpot in terms of me running ridiculously over my target length and structural constraints. *wry*

[sablin27.livejournal.com]

Miles Vorkosigan & The Faceless Old Woman Who Lives in Your House - "He would have told her if she'd asked."

[Fic] "Poor Communication" -- Vorkosigan Saga/Welcome to Night Vale

[edenfalling]

Miles arrived home from his first trip outside Barrayar Vale to find his bedroom in shambles: bed slashed open to spill padding and springs, furniture overturned and beaten with a hammer, mirror smashed and the glass carefully embedded points-up in the carpet, etc. A single sheet of paper lay in the center of the chaos, edges incongruously aligned in perfect parallels to the walls, with a note in large black letters that read, "DON'T LEAVE THE TOWN WITHOUT GIVING NOTICE. WHAT IF YOUR GRANDFATHER HAD NEEDED YOU?"

"First of all, he's dead," Miles said to the apparently empty room, "and while I know that doesn't mean much in an existential sense, it does matter in terms of my legal priorities; second, it's counterproductive to alienate me when I do have the option of renouncing my dual citizenship and moving permanently to Beta Flats; third, if you were so worried you might have spent more time here instead of running for Mayor; and last, I would have told you if you'd bothered to ask."

He heard a distinct "Hmph!" from his right, but a moment later there was a click distinctly reminiscent of a pair of antiques scissors being set down on the genuine human leg-bone windowsill his grandfather had built from his own hunting trophies.

Sighing, Miles went to fetch an armsman and a portable black hole generator. There was no point in asking the Faceless Old Woman to clean up after herself.

---------------

Six sentences, alas! Also, I have never written for either of these fandoms before (and am not remotely up-to-date on WtNV), so please forgive any oddity.

Re: [Fic] "Poor Communication" -- Vorkosigan Saga/Welcome to Night Vale

[sablin27.livejournal.com]

Twice my allotted sentences! I like the mixture of creepiness and guilt-tripping.

[wistfulmemory.livejournal.com]

I would like Ayakawa Yukiko being amused at the antics of Naruto and Sasuke (who are temporarily alliance because they're conspiring together about something).

[Fic] "A Likely Story" -- Naruto

[edenfalling]

"And where do you two think you're going?" Yukiko asked, looking up at the ceiling where Naruto and Sasuke were attempting to sneak into her office. She'd give them credit for a novel idea, and also for successfully stealing the rock-climbing gear they were using, but if they expected their ingenuity would excuse them from helping her repair the damaged tiles over the weekend, they had another think coming.

The kid and the brat exchanged a frantic barrage of glances and eyebrow waggles that were obviously failing as code judging by their increasingly confused frowns. Finally Naruto gulped and said, "We want to buy you a birthday present, but we need money, so we need your signature to get at Sasuke's bank account, but we didn't want to bug you 'cause it's been a really hot week and we know you hate summer, and anyway if you come with us you'll know how much money we take out, which would give you a hint about what we're buying, and that's not fair 'cause it's supposed to be a surprise, so we thought we'd borrow your name seal, and--"

Yukiko bent down to open a desk drawer while he babbled. Then she handed Sasuke a withdrawal authorization, neatly written, signed, sealed, and infused with her chakra signature. "Here you go, don't spend it all it one place, and when whatever you're doing blows up in your faces, I wasn't involved and I know nothing. Also, for future reference? My birthday's in January."

As the boys vanished in a swirl of apologies and insults, she gave up on holding back her laughter.

-----

*eyes ficlet suspiciously* Okay, that is not remotely in the vicinity of three sentences. Damn my failure at structural restrictions!

Re: [Fic] "A Likely Story" -- Naruto

[wistfulmemory.livejournal.com]

That was fantastic! I love that the boys were working together in order to do something nice for Yukiko.

Thank you for the wonderful ficlet. I hope it (and the others you wrote) help bring on some more inspiration.

[sablin27.livejournal.com]

If you've time for another:
Natasha Romanova (Avengers) & Parker (Leverage) - "That is not happening."

[Fic] "High Wire" -- MCU/Leverage

[edenfalling]

"But we need a grifter and you have the perfect skills, plus you already have the Robin Hood shtick going. That's a joke, 'cause of your archer friend with the crazy arms. You're not laughing. Did I tell it wrong? I've been practicing, but I'm not good at comic timing. Hey, you can bring Robin Arms along too if you want. We could always use a good lookout and distance backup guy."

"I said it's not happening," Natasha repeated to the blonde thief she'd run into while searching Irene Vanzetti's apartment for a very specific and incriminating thumb drive. "As for Hawkeye, you'd have to ask him yourself. I work alone." Coulson could try to recreate the past all he wanted; she had no interest in hollow dreams, and less in creating even more attachments that could be used against her. Freelance work suited her these days.

"What about consulting?" the thief asked, unleashing an unnervingly effective combination of pleading kitten eyes and knife-bright smile. "For a negotiable percentage of the profits... and the satisfaction of knowing you're making a difference."

Natasha let a small, rueful smile surface in the corner of her mouth and the set of her eyes. "You're very idealistic for someone in your line of work. Just because I'm on the side of the angels this time doesn't mean you should trust me. But I'll think about it," she said.

"Oh, you are good," the thief said, as her smile somehow grew even brighter. "Hey! That reminds me. I've been meaning to try breaking into Stark Tower for a while but no one on my team is good enough with freefall and wires to spot me. You helped Tony Stark save the world so if you come along it'll be obvious we're just there for the challenge, not to rob him blind. And it's good to take a break from serious work now and then. What do you say?" She bounced lightly on her toes, waiting for an answer.

Natasha thought about the inherent risk in helping a thief into Stark's territory. Then she thought about Stark's face when he discovered the intrusion. The smile she allowed to show was very nearly real.

"Meet me tomorrow evening, seven sharp, at the Starbucks two blocks south of the tower," she said. "But this is a one time thing."

"That's what I said, before I had a team," the thief told her. She stuck out her hand, the gesture strangely graceless for someone so adept at avoiding laser security grids. "Parker."

"Widow," Natasha said, and shook.

-----

*headdesk* I fail structure restrictions forever.

This is obviously post-Winter Soldier for MCU, and probably post-series for Leverage. Again, not fandoms I usually write, so please forgive any characterization or canon glitches.

[rthstewart.livejournal.com]

Merlin & Narnia, errr, Arthur and Susan, diplomatic immunity

[Fic] "Inconvenient Truths" -- Merlin/Chronicles of Narnia

[edenfalling]

"He's a sorcerer and a traitor, and by Camelot's laws -- which extend here, by virtue of diplomatic immunity -- I have both the right and the duty to execute him!" Arthur shouted, barely restraining himself from drawing his sword in the presence of his hostess.

"It's true that if you had already killed your friend, we could not legally charge you with murder, and also that we cannot imprison you until your temper passes and the good sense I'm told you possess has returned," Queen Susan agreed in a mild tone, never deigning to look up from the account book she was reviewing. "That does not, however, mean that Narnia is under any obligation to assist you in carrying out such a crime, and therefore Merlin will remain safely beyond your reach while you consider whether his loyalty and service outweigh the poison your father raised you to believe, and also how badly Camelot needs Narnia's grain to replace the stores your sister burnt in her campaign. I bid you good day, Prince Regent."

To her left, the brown bear that spoke as a man opened the door of the solar with a pointed growl.

Still fuming, Arthur saw himself out.

-----

Back down to only six sentences! Also, this is a strict-form double drabble, 200 words exactly. :-)

Set between seasons 3 & 4 of Merlin, and probably a year before HHB for Narnia.

[rthstewart.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, Wackspurts and brain farts

[Fic] "The Taste of Madeleines" -- Harry Potter

[edenfalling]

"Luna, have you seen the-- er-- the-- you know, the-- oh, Merlin kiss a toad, I know there's a word and I know that I know it, and why can't I dig it out of my brain?"

Luna looked up from her eggs and toast to see her flatmate gesticulating in the air above her head, as if grasping for a flyaway thought.

"Your hiring packet is on the sofa underneath the green pillow with the embroidered purple potato," she said. "I keep telling you, if you used my mother's special Wrackspurt-repellent shampoo you wouldn't have these problems."

"Thanks, Luna, you're a lifesaver," Ginny said as she dug out the large envelope the Holyhead Harpies had sent the day before. "And I keep telling you, if you'd give me the recipe so I can brew a version with a different, quieter scent, I'd be happy to switch. But I'm not going to walk around smelling of peppermint all day long."

Luna caught a hank of her own hair between her fingers, twisted it and raised it to her face. She breathed in and remembered her mother's smile when she'd brewed the first batch of shampoo, and the gentle pressure of her fingers over Luna's scalp when she was still too young to be trusted alone in the slippery porcelain bathtub. She'd always carried peppermints in her pockets. Luna had stolen her dresses after she died and slept with them under her pillow, one by one, day by day, until they lost their scent.

She tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I think I'd like to smell of flowers," Luna said. "Or maybe rain. But not yet."

"Yeah, I hear you. Don't let me push you into letting go before you're ready," Ginny said as she tucked her envelope into her satchel. "Besides, it's okay if I blank out now and then. I have you to remember for me." She Apparated out with a crack of displaced air, stirring irregular currents all through the flat.

Luna breathed in the faint scent of Ginny's own strawberry shampoo, and smiled.

-----

It occurs to me after the fact that you may have meant Harry Potter the character rather than Harry Potter the fandom. If that's the case, I'm sorry!

Also we're back to completely ignoring any structural constraints. Drat and botheration.

[hungrytiger11.livejournal.com]

Adriane and Arthur- favorite books

[Fic] "Perchance To Dream" -- Inception

[edenfalling]

"I wouldn't have guessed you for a fantasy reader," Ariadne said as Arthur pulled a battered and clearly well-loved paperback from his satchel -- not only obviously fantasy, but fantasy with swirling, feminine-coded cover art, all jewels and flowers, fancy clothes and flowing hair, with scarcely a sword to be seen.

Arthur smiled and said, "Everyone in dreamwork should read McKillip; I've never found anyone better at recreating the experience of lucid dreaming in text that simultaneously manages to follow a coherent plot." He glanced down at his book, then handed it across the train compartment to Ariadne. "Ombria in Shadow isn't the best introduction -- it's easier to start with her early, more straightforward work, so you already trust her when she gets obscure in later stories -- but it stands alone and has a fairly balanced resolution. If nothing else, it should give you a sense of her style."

"Oh, but--"

"I have other ways to pass the time," Arthur said, tapping the satchel that lay on the seat beside him. "Besides, one of us should be keeping an eye out for trouble. It's impossible to tie off all the potential loose ends around a job."

Ariadne glanced toward the flimsy sliding door that separated their compartment from the narrow, noisy corridor. The false passport in her jacket pocket seemed to pulse like Poe's malevolent buried heart.

"Hey. I've got this," Arthur said.

He probably did, which was both reassuring and an annoying reminder of all the things Ariadne still had to learn if she wanted to stay in the impossible twilit world of dreamwork. "Okay. Fair warning, though -- I zone out pretty hard when I'm reading," she said. "Tap my shoulder or something if you need my attention."

As their train rushed its click-clack-swaying way out of Bucharest, Ariadne opened the book and began to read: "When the ruler of the ancient city of Ombria lay dying, his mistress, frozen out of the room by the black stare of Domina Pearl, drifted like a bird on a wave--"

-----

Yeah, so obviously I'm writing mini-ficlets rather than three-sentence ficlets at this point. *sigh*

[rthstewart.livejournal.com]

Giles, no eating or drinking in the library

[Fic] "Going Native" -- BtVS

[edenfalling]

It takes less than a week from the first day of school for Giles to give up on maintaining a properly clean and quiet environment in the library. He can manage the vast majority of the students -- some well-timed glares and a few low-level spells to manipulate shadows, create a creeping sensation on the back of the neck, or deliver static shocks if any food or drink get too close to the stacks work wonders -- but Willow's forlorn eyes, Xander's incessant nattering, and Buffy's blithe disregard for minor pain rapidly forced him to exempt them from his wards.

He consoles himself with another terrible jelly-filled donut as he listens to his Slayer and her friends bicker over the latest crisis in this impossible town, and doesn't even twitch as the powdered sugar drifts down to coat the pages of his priceless book of prophecy.

-----

OMG, an actual three-sentence ficlet! \o/

[rosaxx50.livejournal.com]

How about Amanda and Sarek from Star Trek, a moment of perfect understanding.

[Fic] "The Test of Good Manners" -- Star Trek (AOS or TOS, doesn't really matter)

[edenfalling]

Diplomacy was not a natural field for the people of Vulcan, whose carefully cultivated reserve and rationality could all too easily strike members of other species as arrogance, disinterest, and disdain (and in truth, too many of his compatriots did believe themselves superior to those who did not follow Surak's teachings, nor share their various physical strengths), but patience and hospitality were also virtues honed and polished by sun and sand, and Sarek had long since realized how much he did not know: he therefore endeavored to listen more than he spoke.

Occasionally, however, even his patience ran dry.

"If we had taken a drink every time Ambassador Darura and Premier Envoy Tlipf started jockeying for social precedence, I believe I would have died of alcohol poisoning less than six hours into the opening session," Amanda murmured into his ear as the two diplomats in question once again disrupted the Federation's internal trade conference with a petty argument.

"I am beginning to wonder if that might be a preferable fate to enduring another three days of their presence," Sarek answered, letting his lips brush against the delicate rim of his wife's ear.

Amanda laid her hands flat on the edge of the table and widened her eyes in manufactured shock. "A genuine, verifiable joke! Be still my heart."

"I learned from a generous and patient teacher," Sarek said. He touched his fingers to the back of her hand, and stood. The sudden motion drew the attention of the room toward him, away from Darura and Tlipf. "If my respected colleagues from Senita and Akp permit," he said, nodding formally to each in turn, "I suggest setting aside the article currently under discussion and moving on, since it seems we all agree on the basic provisos. The issues between their worlds are perhaps best dealt with on a bilateral basis, when they can devote their full time and attention to the matter."

The majority of his colleagues hastily voiced their agreement and the aide in charge of the viewscreen shifted the display to the next paragraph of the proposed treaty. At the far end of the room, Darura and Tlipf subsided in confusion. "Thank you," Sarek said. "The next point relates to the right of free passage and its interaction with the transport of cargos that are interdicted on some but not all Federation worlds. All in favor of opening the floor to discussion?"

Through their open bond, he could feel Amanda's smile like a hidden spring in the desert.

-----

And we're back to structural restrictions, what structural restrictions? *sigh*

[wistfulmemory.livejournal.com]

Hmm...if you're still willing, I'd love another story with Ayakawa Yukiko. (I really like that AU...) Maybe something with Kakashi and fireworks that aren't the typical festival fireworks.

[Fic] "Small Favors" -- Naruto

[edenfalling]

"Absolutely not," Yukiko said as she sat on the roof of her apartment building and flicked through the background briefing for her upcoming assignment -- her second as a chuunin, and trickier than she'd expected so soon after her promotion.

"But Naruto will look up to you for the rest of your life if you help me pull off a trick like this. Your mission won't be a problem. It would help! You'll be blending in with the rest of the tourists so they won't question your place in their caravan the next morning. Nobody could risk coming after you since that would break your cover," Kakashi said, staring up from his lazy sprawl beside her. "Please? As a favor for your beloved former teacher?"

"Beloved, huh? In your dreams." Yukiko rolled up her papers and tapped Kakashi on the head as if he were one of his own nin-dogs. "I don't care how good you are at copying the kid's starving puppy face. I'm still not taking the fall for whatever area effect genjutsu you want to use on the harvest festival fireworks display. You have a Sharingan. Cast your own illusions and evade the consequences like a proper ninja."

"So heartless!" Kakashi said in a mournful voice. He snatched the mission briefing from her hand and scanned rapidly through the pages. "Hmm. Not even in return for everything I know about recent political turmoil in Tea Country?"

"Nope. Because you'll tell me that anyway or I'll report you for obstruction of village intelligence work." Yukiko kicked her heels against the side of the building, enjoying the view over the village wall into the surrounding forest. "I won't stop you from asking Naruto, though. He's no good at genjutsu, but he's getting disturbingly good at distractions."

Kakashi flicked the papers back into order and set them on the roof between himself and Yukiko. "No. He doesn't need that kind of trouble."

Yukiko thought about that for a moment, and grimaced. "You're right. I don't know what I was thinking. So. Tea Country?"

"Tea Country, and its daimyo's continuing hobby of naming multiple potential heirs and letting them weed each other out," Kakashi agreed as Yukiko collected and folded her papers. "But first, ramen. I missed out on your little welcome-home celebration--"

"--which was your own fault, for being so late we were already leaving Yura's yatai--"

"--and that means you owe me dinner," Kakashi finished.

"I'm still not paying for you," Yukiko said as she stood and tucked the mission brief into the pocket of her windbreaker.

"Ungrateful!" Kakashi said as he rolled gracefully to his feet.

"Practical!"

"Miser!"

They leapt off the roof, still bickering.

-----

This is set a week or two after the epilogue of The Way of the Apartment Manager and references incidents in that chapter.

[priscipixie.livejournal.com]

Are you still writing? (And have you read Terry Pratchett's Vetinari novels?) I'd love to see Edmund Pevensie and Lord Vetinari, comparing the intricacies of governing/spying in Narnia and Ankh Morpork.

[priscipixie.livejournal.com]

Sorry, I meant Pratchett's Discworld novels :P