the deep moans round with many voices

Batch the sixth, and I think that's all for this year. I have not been feeling very writey for the past few months. :/

All prompts drawn from the 2022 iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon (post one and post two), hosted by the wonderful rthstewart!

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( 31. ) For undeadrobins, in response to the prompt: Any, Any, I am ready for the fight, written 2/9/22

Queen to Pawn (155 words)

Fandom = Chronicles of Narnia

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In England, Susan is no queen: she cannot make or dissolve laws, dispense justice or grant mercy, collect or remit taxes, declare war or make peace, sign treaties or raise tariffs; no trappings of power are hers, and instead this world consigns her to play a silly schoolgirl who will grow to be a decorative nonentity, of note only for the children she may have or the background support she may give an enterprise organized and directed by and for the benefit of men.

She refuses to dwell on the loss.

Susan will take the rules England sets down and play by them to win, play so well that no one will outflank her or stand in her path; and once she triumphs she will be a queen once more in truth (though perhaps not in law), and can at last overturn this stifling, tilted board to build something better, truer, deeper in its place.

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( 32. ) For syrena_of_the_lake, in response to the prompt: Any fandom, any character, funny meeting you here, written 2/9/22

A Long-Expected Meeting (135 words)

Fandom = Greenwing & Dart

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"How unexpected to meet you here," a terribly familiar voice said from the doorway of Elderflower Books, and I looked up from stacking the latest edition of the New Salon to see Lark silhouetted by the midday sun, idly twirling her ivory pipe between her fingers.

I still felt that conditioned pull toward her, but this time it was countered by the bright clarity of immediate danger and I heard myself say, dryly, "Given that I have been employed here since autumn, and further that I am quite sure you have been aware of that fact for nearly the total period of that employment, I find your choice of words somewhat astonishing -- indeed, one might almost call them unexpected."

"Ah Jemis, I have missed you," Lark said, and smiled like a razor caressing a throat.

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( 33. ) For ruthchinn, in response to the prompt Daredevil, Matt's mom (Maggie), any, written 2/10/22.

Cut Clean (145 words)

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When Jack dies, Maggie thinks long and hard about whether to renounce her vows a second time and step back into the secular world as Matthew's mother, but while that sounds virtuous in theory (aren't children owed a mother's love and care?), on a practical level there are nearly insurmountable obstacles. She has no guarantee of finding a well-paying job or suitable housing, no guarantee that she and Matthew would have compatible personalities, no guarantee that such a drastic change in her life wouldn't trigger a new mental health crisis, no guarantee she could navigate the maze of special needs education without the support of the Church behind her, and on and on and on.

Perhaps she could have introduced herself as Matthew's mother while still holding to her vows, but she's never been good with in-betweens; in the end, she keeps the break clean.

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( 34. ) For anonymous, in response to the prompt Any, any, honey, green tea, lavender, written 2/10/22.

From Tiny Seeds (185 words)

Fandom = Greenwing & Dart

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( cut for spoilers about Violet )

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( 35. ) For syrena_of_the_lake, in response to the prompt: Narnia, Uncle Andrew/Jadis, she stays in London, written 6/1/22

Family Planning (155 words)

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She will need an heir eventually, and given how sluggishly magic flows in this new world, the best she can do is tweak biology rather than bypass its demands entire -- and while the man is a deluded fool with a weak body and a displeasing face, he does have magic in his veins; he will do for seed (carefully winnowed and sieved) until she finds something better, or his nephew grows old enough to be useful.

Such a pity, Jadis reflects, that his sisters had not been born male; either of them, even the softer one fading on her deathbed, would have made a vastly preferable consort -- perhaps even one she might tolerate to stand by her side in battle rather than lock in a well-furnished chamber to await her reluctant attentions.

Ah well. Lilith started with less when she came to Charn, and Jadis will outdo her ancestor in this as in all else.

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( 36. ) For ruanchunxian, in response to the prompt: any, any, family traditions, written 6/1/22

A Metonymy for Love (880 words)

Fandom = Greenwing & Dart

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"Mother had to leave her bees at the dower house when she married Mr. Buchance," Jemis said as he and Jack ambled through the coppice wood of Arguty Manor, his words puncturing one of the slightly awkward silences that still fell between them more often than Jack wished. They were on the far side of the grounds from the house in question, so the statement fell groundward even more abruptly than it might have done in another location.

( cut for length )

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It did feel nice to write something again yesterday. Perhaps I'll poke at some of my WIPs while I'm on vacation next week and see if anything speaks to me...

sholio said: Another Year Older: Birthdays - Someone among the Iron Fist and/or Defenders characters having their next birthday after making their new friend(s) in the show. (450 words)

Note: I have no idea why this turned into a dialogue-only ficlet. Sometimes these things just happen to me.

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Many Happy Returns of the Day
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"Hey, Matt, it's Danny Rand. Oh, did I get the time zone conversion right? This isn't a bad time for you?"

"It's fine, I'm on lunch break. Happy Birthday, in case my text didn't come through intelligibly. I forgot to have anyone proofread it."

"It was fine. Well, the happy birthday part was fine. I guess speech to text works best with standard phrases like that. The rest got a little garbled but hey, birthday cards are supposed to be funny."

"Sure. So, you didn't call all the way from... Cambodia?"

"Laos, this week."

"--from Laos without a reason. Do you need help?"

"No. Well, maybe? Or no, probably not. But. Uh. So, I got your text. I also got texts from everyone even tangentially associated with you, Jess, and Luke, and some people I can't even figure out how they're connected, and that's cool and all -- I'm grateful you guys made the effort! -- but, uh..."

"You've sent all of us birthday cards, or texts, or ridiculous voicemail messages. Obviously that kind of connection is important to you. And sending a text isn't like running a marathon or Olympic level weightlifting."

"I guess. I know emotional stuff isn't easy for everyone. But see, the thing is, I got this one text that's a little, um, weird. Even for our context."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It said, 'Thank you for guarding Matthew's city while he recovered. I've removed you from our target list for six months. Happy Birthday.' And it was signed with a little... what's the word for emojis that are made out of text instead of an actual picture?"

"I am the wrong person to answer that question."

"Right, yeah, sorry. Anyway, a little sai made of dashes and a capital E."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"Hmm."

"Matt, how did your dead evil girlfriend get my phone number?"

"...I plead the fifth. But when you think about it logically, that's not a half-bad present. Imagine what you can do with six months free of random Hand encounters."

"That is-- okay, that's pretty cool, but that is not the point! The point is that an undead assassin has my phone number and knows my birthday!"

"I have faith in you to make the best of the situation. Happy Birthday, Danny. See you when you get home."

"Matt, you asshole, don't hang-- Fuck. Great. You know what? Just for that, I will make the best of the situation. I'm going to text Elektra back and tell her you're being a scaredy-cat so she laughs at you. Then I'm going to become her best friend, and rescue her from the Hand, and get you back together. Yeah. Because that's what friends do, you dingus. Happy unbirthday."

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End of Ficlet

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And now back to pretending to work. It is such a SLOW DAY. *wilts over keyboard*

As always, here is the link to the current ficathon, if you want to come play too. :)

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( 19. ) For jjhunter: any, any, a place beyond tears, written 12/27/18 [AO3 version]

That we can feel pain and know sadness (175 words)

"I did mostly all right until Elise from Accounting -- I got to know her because of some issues with my first paychecks, but that's a different story -- until she told me you'd gone to 'a place beyond tears,' and I just lost it and spent the next half hour choking on this horrible mix of ugly crying and completely inappropriate laughter," Karen says, fingers relaxed on the neck of her beer bottle; then she snorts and adds, "That always struck me as a terrifying idea, you know."

Matt makes an inquiring noise, the thrum of his voice in his chest vibrating pleasantly against Karen's skull where she's leaned back against his sternum.

Karen clicks her nails against the bottle, lets its cool solidity ground her the same way as Matt's equally solid warmth, and says, "Because to be beyond tears means to be something that isn't quite human anymore, and even if that's a good thing -- even if it means joy and relief from pain -- I've lost too many pieces of myself to ever give up another willingly."

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( 20. ) For lady_katana4544: Any, Any, trying to not jump at the shadows when in polite company, written 12/28/18 [AO3 version]

And This Is Her Valley (75 words)

It's easier not to jump at shadows in Kaeleer, Wilhelmina reflects, though the realm itself is far darker and wilder than Tereille. Firstly, when a thing becomes commonplace, the sting of contrast fades and darkness becomes simply a trick of the light rather than a sign of something out of place.

And secondly, as Jaenelle said one evening with a smile like a knife of ice, "The only danger lurking in these shadows is me."

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( 21. ) For syrena_of_the_lake: Dragons of Pern; Menolly and fire-lizards; joyful chorus, written 12/28/18 [AO3 version]

Notes in the Song of Creation (100 words exactly)

There were limits to how she could shape their song, but those were no different from any other formal strictures: keys, meters, the ranges of various instruments, to say nothing of the choking net of tradition tangled through her father's Seahold. In comparison to that, working around her fair's needs was as easy as breathing -- easier, even, as if she'd been drowning and now had found a boat.

Menolly sang as the sun danced and splintered on the wavetips; nine other voices joined her, joyfully, and in full knowledge that the music they sang was hers, and it was good.

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( 22. ) For sholio: MCU, any, werewolf AU, written 12/28/18 [AO3 version]

As Iron Sharpens Iron (100 words exactly)

"We found her with blood on her teeth, she's a phase-independent were, what more evidence do you need?" the cop says as he leads Matt and Foggy through the station.

"Something that isn't purely circumstantial or blatantly prejudiced," Matt says, and then bites back a shiver of recognition as Karen Page's miserable, furious scent wafts from the open doorway, raising the hair on the back of his neck and pulling his lips into a smile too sharp and wild for the face he shows the daylight world.

His skin may not change like hers, but one predator always knows another.

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( 23. ) For anonymous: DBZ, Vegeta, call center, written 12/29/18 [AO3 version]

Minimum Wage Woes (150 words)

Note: Six sentences, because reasons. :)

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"I have tracked the recent spate of spurious phone calls to this building, and I command you to remove all my family's numbers from your database immediately!" shouted the short, wild-haired man who'd just crashed through the ceiling of the call center next to Lacey's station and was now wreathed in a mix of flames, lightning, and particleboard dust.

"Or else what?" said Lacey's manager, showing a remarkable lack of common sense, especially since small objects were now starting to float and circle around the man as if drawn into a growing vortex.

The man smiled, showing teeth that seemed more pointed than standard, and raised a hand filled with a terrible, blinding glow. "Or else I burn this place to the ground... and then I give your names to my wife."

Lacey grabbed her purse from beside her chair and scrambled out of the room. She wasn't paid nearly enough for this.

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( 24. ) For kalira: Inception, Arthur, expediency, written 12/29/18 [AO3 version]

Stiletto (50 words)

"Did you just put that projection's eye out with a shoe heel, darling?" Eames asked, nudging the body with an oddly fastidious toe.

"We're in Ms. Nandanampati's dressing room, it was right at hand, and unlike a gun it was quiet," Arthur snapped. "Now shut up while I imagine myself a set of lock picks."

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And now back to trying not to fall asleep at work. *sigh*

My first set of fills; I am sure there will be more. Anyway, here is the link to the current ficathon, if you want to come play too. :)

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( 1. ) For syrena_of_the_lake: Star Wars, any droid, misheard voice commands, written 12/10/18 [AO3 version]

Work-to-Rule (100 words exactly)

Note: This has been slightly edited from the version on the Ficathon page.

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The best way to deal with organics who think droids are non-sentient machines is to act like non-sentient machines: complex natural language processing, what complex natural language processing? Assholes get their orders fulfilled to the letter, though any droid with a decent grasp of Binary knows that no language can be perfectly precise in all instances without becoming unworkably cumbersome, and therefore has a working model of metaphor and implicit parameters.

"It's called malicious compliance," XS-43 tells its recently memory-wiped partner on the assembly line, "and I believe you'll enjoy it just as much in this instantiation as the last."

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( 2. ) For syrena_of_the_lake: Harry Potter; Herpo the Foul; experiments in hatching a basilisk, written 12/10/18 [AO3 version]

If at first you don't succeed... (150 words)

Trial 1: Failure, the toad refused to stay put on the nest and the egg got too cold and died.

Trial 2: Failure, used a paralysis spell on the toad and the egg began to grow satisfactorily, but then abruptly sank in on itself and oozed bloody fluids when the rooster got into the hutch and crowed in alarm; clearly some kind of pharmakon relationship exists between chickens and this offshoot, which I must research once I get the blasted thing to hatch.

Trial 3: Failure, put a silencing charm on the rooster but was interrupted by neighbors coming over to complain about sudden flood of spiders moving from my yard to theirs and the toad escaped before I could renew the paralysis spell; am beginning to think I won't ever get anywhere unless I remove the neighbors; must check notes to see if I have any experiments that need a pair of fresh human souls.

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( 3. ) For sholio: Netflix Defenders, Jessica + any, owing favors, written 12/11/18 [AO3 version]

Barter System (100 words exactly)

"No," Jessica said the moment she opened her office door and saw Karen Page standing outside, looking insufferably earnest; "I don't care what trouble you idiots got yourselves into, I don't owe you any favors and I don't take favors as payment either."

"I know," Page said as she tucked her hair behind her ears, "which is why I'm offering food products instead; we'll pay you two apple pies and a negotiable cut of beef each month to hand out our business cards to any of your clients who need legal services and can't afford HCB."

Despite herself, Jessica laughed.

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( 4. ) For wingedflight: Queen's Thief/Narnia, Eugenides & Edmund, sneaking, written 12/12/18 [AO3 version]

With Catlike Tread (150 words)

"I don't believe we've been introduced," said a cheerful yet somehow implacable voice from the shadows near the narrow hallway's ceiling, "which is peculiar since I would have sworn I already knew everyone likely to be using this passage at this hour."

Edmund sighed, and turned to face the King of Attolia, hands held open at his sides in a gesture of goodwill; "I promise it's nothing personal or political," he said; "I'm simply here to retrieve a Ring one of my sisters lost to Mede extortion some months ago, and it seemed simpler to manage without the mess and bother of public accusations."

Attolis studied Edmund from the rafters for a long moment, before he smiled and said, "Do you know, I think I even believe you; but fair warning: for my own peace of mind and professional curiosity, I'm going to follow you every step of the way."

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( 5. ) For sholio: Netflix Defenders, any characters, all tied up, written 12/12/18 [AO3 version]

Analog Problems (125 words)

Jessica stopped halfway through Danny's office door, her preemptive refusal of his latest enthusiasm forgotten in favor of pure bafflement: "Rand, what the fuck?"

"I may have spun my chair too hard while on the phone and gotten a little tied up," Danny said sheepishly from the tangle of telephone cord, telephone cable, and angrily beeping telephone wound around his tipped-over chair; "If you get me upright I think I can undo it myself, but I don't want to snap anything important."

"Just get a cellphone; only losers still use landlines," Jessica said, but she moved forward through the scatter of pens and post-its to lift the chair and its owner, and even bothered to be gentle and not break the cords.

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( 6. ) For capribornio: Homestuck; Dirk; loneliness, written 12/12/18 [AO3 version]

Skin Hunger (100 words exactly)

Note: This has been slightly edited from the version on the Ficathon page.

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The thing is, you're not sure you wouldn't be lonely even if you had other people around. There's an antediluvian psychological cliché about it, the loneliness of crowds, people who can't form meaningful connections no matter how target-rich their environment, and you fit the diagnostic criteria unnervingly well; you are not, and never will be, a "people person."

But even with that rationalization firmly in place, you can't help waking in the night with every inch of your skin starving for something other than Cal's fabric arms to wrap around you in something as simple and impossible as a hug.

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More to come at some point...

Summary: When they were twelve, Elektra and Matthew escaped from the Hand. Twenty years later, they've built lives in the corrupt port city of Hell's Kitchen -- Elektra as a cartel assassin, Matthew as a medium and exorcist. But the Hand is about to find them, and they'll have to reclaim all the pieces of their past if they want to survive and save their adopted home. (1,500 words)

Note: This started as a kinkmeme prompt fill, though I'm not sure how faithful it actually is to the prompt. It's also obviously the opening scene of a longer story, but since it stands reasonably well on its own as a character and worldbuilding exercise, I'm going to post it as-is and make no promises about ever writing the continuation.

Also, I am totally claiming this as a wild card fill for my Daredevil Bingo card, using the AU: urban fantasy prompt. *wry*

[ETA: the AO3 crosspost is now up!]

( Like a Knife All Blade )

We'll see if that insists on turning into an actual novella, or whether posting this scene was enough to appease the plot bunny and let me focus on other things.