the deep moans round with many voices

Time for more Three Sentence Ficathon fills!

Here is the old ficathon post (still open for fills and comments! just not new prompts), and here is the new ficathon post (open for everything).

Also, look! Five of these actually fit the structural restrictions, and the last is only over by one sentence instead of who even knows how many. ;)

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

( 49. ) For rokosourobouros: Homestuck, Rose, Umbrella Academy AU , written 2/19/20

I Know a Secret (200 words)

Four sentences.

-----

Number Three's gift is illumination; her code name, Seer, strikes her as fairly self-explanatory: she can look at a person, a place, or a situation and simply know their secrets. It's not a combat gift, but the Baroness deploys her for reconnaissance before and during missions, and for public relations management whenever a bit of blackmail might come in handy; her fighting skills she earned through painful trial and error, self-crafted thorns to protect the fragile blossoms of her gift and her heart.

The one person whose secrets she can't read is the Baroness herself; when she's a child, this is a comfort, a bastion of silence in a world that constantly screams data into her mind, but the older she grows, the more Number Three -- or Rose, she should learn to say, now that Mother has given them all names -- grows paranoid of that gaping chasm where a person with a thousand thoughts and wishes ought to be.

When she blackmails her way free of that oppressive house and its deadly secrets, it's with information she learned the hard way, and her hedge of thorns has grown so tall and sharp not even her siblings can touch her anymore.

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

( 50. ) For sideways: Books of the Raksura, Consolation & Jade, role models, written 2/19/20

Echoes and Reflections (180 words)

-----

"I know they look to me, that I need to have answers -- or at least know how to find answers -- but it's hard when all I have is the old consort's stories to say what's good and what the flight was like under the progenitor to say what's bad," Consolation said, kicking furrows in the rough bark of a mountain thorn's branch with her disemboweling claw.

"You've learned to ask instead of just taking," Jade said, all her spines held carefully neutral; "That's a good first step, and I'm sure your flight can feel that you care and want them to be safe and happy."

"Asking only helps if someone answers," Consolation said, kicking free another slab of bark, and it struck Jade suddenly that this must be an echo of how Pearl had felt when Jade was young and first stretching her wings into her role as daughter-queen, though at least she'd never tried to steal anyone else's consort; she flicked one spine in acknowledgment and said, "You're right; so ask me, and today I'll do what I can."

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

( 51. ) For mad_madam_m: Any, any, "The world is filled with crazy men in love", written 2/19/20

Solve the Right Problem (70 words)

Original fiction, because reasons.

-----

"So what if he's sick with love -- the world is full of crazy men who think they're in love, or maybe even really are in love, but none of their suffering obligates the targets of their obsessions to do one single thing they don't wish to."

"But he said he'll kill himself unless you--"

"That's a problem for a suicide hotline, not for me," she said, and shut the door.

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

( 52. ) For anonymous: Harry Potter, any, justice delayed is justice denied, written 2/19/20

And for All the Wrong Reasons (55 words)

-----

After the war's end, Sirius is pardoned -- or rather, Sirius finally, posthumously, receives the trial he was denied. The decision, naturally, is innocent of all charges: even aside from the overwhelming evidence of Pettigrew's guilt, nobody wants to go on record thwarting their savior Harry Potter.

Harry burns the verdict over his godfather's empty grave.

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

( 53. ) For kalira: Girl Genius, any Heterodyne, out of balance, written 2/20/20

Weights and Measures (130 words)

-----

"Mathematics is about balance, each side of an equation set exactly against the other until they line up like perfectly chosen weights on a scale, so naturally I thought a kinesthetic aid might be a useful teaching tool," Saturnus said.

"Mmm," Teodora said, as she eyed the gaping hole in her kitchen floor (and several levels of cellar and "secret" tunnels beneath); the twisted, broken levers and trays hanging empty above it; and her two sons playing happily in the corner with no notion of how close they'd come to death were it not for their unofficial Jaeger bodyguards' quick reflexes. "I can see the logic, but perhaps the next iteration should be at one tenth scale and shut down automatically if our children start experimenting with imaginary numbers."

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

( 54. ) For last_haven: Sailor Moon, any, I will never believe in anything again, written 2/20/20

That's What Friends Are For (70 words)

-----

"That implies that you believe that you won't ever believe in anything again, which renders the entire idea self-contradictory," Ami said, carefully deadpan.

Minako groaned and flopped sideways onto her friend, making sure to sprawl her arms across Ami's textbook. "I love you forever, you're one of the people I trust most in all the world, and I would die for you, but please stop spoiling my drama with logic."

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

The question at this point is not whether I'll make it to sixty fills; it's whether I'll make it to seventy-two (6 x 12). It's going to be a multiple of six either way, because I have a Thing about patterns, but the Ficathon seems to be slowing down a bit, new prompts have leaned toward fandom-specific prompts for canons I don't know, and I really should be focusing on some of my other projects. But hey, I have the rest of the year for those other stories, and there are still nine days left in February. I'm sure I can keep knocking off a couple-three fills per day. *wry*

Collection post #6. :)

All prompts drawn from the current iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon, hosted by the wonderful rthstewart. Post One is now closed for prompts (though still open for fills and comments); Post Two is open for new prompts.

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

( 31. ) For rthstewart: Temeraire, any, dragons discovering suffrage is not universal, based on this response, written 2/10/20

Nine Tenths of the Law (185 words)

-----

"And I tell you, when I learned that not only do humans bar all women from voting, they also bar a shameful percentage of men, I entertained half a thought of defecting to France!" said Gloriana, the Regal Copper currently recuperating at Loch Laggan from a badly sprained left wing.

"What, really?" asked Sharl, who had heard earful upon earful about duty, sacrifice, and other apparently vital concepts ever since she'd ventured down from the Highlands into the Loch Laggan covert (at the promise of regular meals and the chance to stockpile shinies in return for the easy work of flying messages back and forth to London), and was thoroughly annoyed at being looked down upon for her lack of true patriotic spirit.

"No, of course not," said Gloriana; "England has its share of problems, but it's my country and one doesn't toss aside possessions the moment they get scratched; one has them repaired or refurbished until they look better than before, and I'll be damned if I let those bloody French dragons have any excuse to claim they have a better country than ours."

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

( 32. ) For syrena_of_the_lake: Narnia, any, tiger with a gold fang, written 2/10/20

Greatly Exaggerated (160 words)

Link to the relevant news article

-----

There were dozens of stories in circulation about how Sergeant Cara of the Narnian Coastal Guard had lost her upper right fang and acquired a gold replacement: the least alarming was that she'd cracked the tooth on an unlucky smuggler's thighbone during a daring raid in the dead of night, and they only grew more bloodthirsty and implausible from there, until drunken sailors and longshoremen had her ripping down entire mainmasts with her teeth alone.

Cara, who had a keen sense for the worth of a theatrical first impression, and who quite enjoyed the cries of "Oh shit, it's the Gold Fang, now we're in for it!" that tended to greet her when she rose dripping from the coastal surf or the Shribble delta shallows, laughed at each new tale and refused to confirm or deny any of them.

After all, there was no intimidation value in admitting she'd cracked the fang while putting away her eldest cub's chew toys.

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

( 33. ) For chomiji: Murderbot, Murderbot(+any), friendship is magic, written 2/10/20

Look At It, It's Got Anxiety (180 words)

Obviously more than three sentences. *headdesk*

-----

"I understand it as a narrative trope, and I've seen it operate on my own decisions, but I still think the entire concept of 'friendship is magic' is annoyingly illogical," I said to Gurathin as we waited for Dr. Mensah to get out of her latest meeting and let us know whether her latest archaeological project had been approved.

"If you're looking for an argument, I'm the wrong person," Gurathin said. "Obviously it's illogical; that's an inherent outcome of humanity's general lack of logic. There's an old saying to that effect -- 'Humans aren't rational animals; humans are rationalizing animals,' -- and I've rarely seen anything to disprove that."

"I wonder if emotions are an inherent outcome of any sufficiently complex system?" I said. "I blame them for my most irrational choices, and I've met robots who understood friendship better than most humans."

"You may have a point," Gurathin said. "And to think humans used imagine robots as heartless beings of pure logic who'd crush us under their mechanical heels."

"Thankfully, that kind of idiocy does seem restricted to humans," I said.

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

( 34. ) For wintersday: Homestuck, Sollux/Feferi/Aradia, I still believe in the futures unwritten, written 2/11/20

Stealing Life (250 words)

Structural restrictions, what structural restrictions?

-----

"What if we found a Life player who's still alive -- or even just enough Life-aspect ghosts; the infinite series adds up to one, so mathematically speaking, infinite ghosts should add up to one living person -- and revived you?" Sollux said idly as he and Feferi sat in the rigging of Vriska and Meenah's ridiculous pirate ship, and Aradia hung upside-down in the air in front of them.

"Then I'd be alive again, but we'd still have no idea what we shoald be doing," Feferi said, nestling a little closer against Sollux's side. "I seappose if I weren't a ghost we'd at least have the option of leaving the dreambubbles and finding an active game session. I don't think there are any acshoal rules against helping other players and tagging along into their new universe."

Aradia swooped close to press a kiss against Feferi's nose. "That sounds amazingly chaotic! Sneaking into somebody else's game session might also let you two slip out of Lord English's alpha timeline predestination hoofbeastshit -- and even if it all goes horribly wrong, why not die trying something interesting?"

"Because interesting deaths are painful?" Sollux said. "Which you should know from your own experience." Feferi nodded in agreement and squeezed his fingers between her own.

"True, but look at everything that can happen afterwards. Lighten up and live a little!" Aradia said, and pressed a kiss to his nose in turn.

"We're all doomed," Sollux said, but he was smiling as Feferi hauled him off the spar.

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

( 35. ) For chomiji: Books of the Raksura, Moon+any babies, all the stars in the sky, written 2/11/20

Dream Big (250 words)

Six sentences.

-----

"How high are the stars?" asked Mist as she balanced awkwardly on Moon's shoulders and clung to the bark of the upper branches with the small, needle-sharp claws on her left hand; "Can you carry me there?"

"The stars are higher than any Aeriat can fly," Moon told his Arbora daughter with Bramble (who was twice as curious and prone to escaping the nursery as her two warrior sisters), "but groundlings can't fly at all and they build flying ships to make up for that, so maybe one day someone will build a ship that can reach the stars."

"I'm going to invent one!" Mist said, stretching up onto her tiptoes until Moon wrapped his hand around her ankle just in case; "I'm going to invent one, and then me and Dew and Drop will fly to every star in the whole sky, and the sun, and the moon, and-- and I'll see everything and learn everything and come back to tell Indigo Cloud all about it."

"You will," Moon agreed, "but not right now; tonight you're coming back inside the tree and going to sleep."

Mist sighed; "Fine," she said, and let herself drop into Moon's arms, "but tomorrow morning I'm going to start learning everything about ships."

"You can read anything you find to me," Moon murmured into his daughter's ears as she shifted into her groundling form and her soft, dark hair feathered across his scales like silk on stone; "We'll learn about ships and stars together."

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

( 36. ) For anonymous: Any, Any, sometimes you want to go for a walk in nature and sometimes nature wants to go for a walk in you, written 2/12/20

Greening the City (175 words)

Fandom = The Magnus Archives. Contains body horror and loss of self.

-----

There's something wrong with her, of course there is; it's not right for mushrooms and lichens and moss to grow in healthy flesh, not natural for decomposition to set up shop without an obvious entry point like an infected cut or an oozing pimple or--

Honoria picks again at her slowly greening forearms and wonders idly how long until she's sprouting proper seedlings, how long until her new ecology turns her body into proper, nurturing soil.

She only wanted to take a walk in the woods last week, to clear her mind and ease her heart after her latest disastrous breakup, only touched the rotting log to move it off the path; she didn't ask for this, didn't ask to be infested, to be-- to be embraced, to be reminded that all life is part of the great cycle, to bask in the truth that all life is ultimately the same; but bringing the forest back to the city is a much more long-term solution, and maybe she can help others remember their place too.

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

And now to bed. :)