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14 November 2007 @ 09:55 am
In which the Bard finds another meme...  
Taken from joonscribble.

Give me a prompt, character or situation and I'll write you at least 100 words.

Fandoms: Dresden Files (Book or TV), due South, Firefly, Doctor Who (seasons 1 & 2, I'm fuzzy on my season 3)
 
 
Current Mood: sleepysleepy
Current Music: Un Ange Frappe A Ma Porte - Natasha St-Pier
 
 
 
donutsweeperdonutsweeper on November 14th, 2007 03:19 pm (UTC)
oooh, ooh, ooh, a scene between diefenbaker (the deaf wolf from due south) and Bob the ghost from Dresden files (tv version)!!! (Or harry is bob's too hard)! Or Dief and Mister or Mouse (the cat and dog from the Dresden books)

shutting up now. And yes, I am evil.
The Writer They Call Tay: Dresden: wizard wizardingawanderingbard on November 14th, 2007 09:26 pm (UTC)
I couldn't resist Dief and Mouse hanging out. :-) I don't have any idea how Fraser and Harry met or what they were working on together, but that's not important right now. What is important, is that dogs are love.

Vigil

"It'll be okay, I promise," I told the wolf at my door. I then realized he couldn't actually hear me. It didn't stop me from continuing to talk to him, though. "I mean, it's just a bullet in the shoulder. A little surgery, he'll be fine. I've been shot dozens of times and I'm still here."

I went over and knelt down beside Diefenbaker, who was staring resolutely at the banged up mess that was my door. I didn't know if he was waiting for Fraser to come through it or for me to open it so he could go and find him. Either way, he was very determined. I reached out and petted him with my bad hand, figuring if he decided to bite me, there wasn't much more that could be done to it.

He whimpered pathetically and it was almost enough to take him down to the hospital and kick and scream until they let me take him to the Mountie. Across the room, Mouse finished up the dog food I had set out for him, after letting Mister take his fill. Dief wouldn't eat. He was either on a hunger strike or just didn't actually eat dog food.

"Row?" Mouse asked the wolf, sitting down beside him.

"Eeeee," Dief replied.

Mouse licked his ears and thumped his tail into Dief's legs a couple of times. The wolf lay down, pressed up across the door like a welcome mat. Mouse made a growling sound that seemed to say 'it's okay, I'll wait with you' and he lay down next to Diefenbaker, facing the opposite way to have both directions covered in case of attacks.

I shook my head at this show of canine fraternity and went over to do some damage control with Mister. He didn't approve of having a wolf in the house. "I'm with you, man. Dogs are weird."
donutsweeper: Happy Dancedonutsweeper on November 14th, 2007 09:32 pm (UTC)
I tip my hat to you! This is incredible! Harry knows everyone! Of course he's come across Benton at some point in time. I LOVE it!!! And now squee massively at your brillance!

"Dogs are weird." I LOVE IT!!!!!
The Writer They Call Tay: Firefly: Kaylee cuteawanderingbard on November 15th, 2007 06:38 pm (UTC)
Yay! Your enthusiasm is very contagious! I love exclamation marks! I'm glad you enjoyed it. I thought Mouse and Dief would get on, since they are both supernaturally talented canines. :-)
not quite tametwelve_pastels on November 14th, 2007 04:00 pm (UTC)
Hmmm...*smirks in an evil-ish manner* How about Book!Dresden Files, at a period of you choosing, and Nine&Rose&Jack? Hmm, hmm, and we must have Bob hitting on Rose (and a suitable reaction), and Jack hitting on Harry at least once, and something large and cerulean and slimy chasing all of them. Extra super bonus points if Harry corrects anyone on the color ("It's blue and it wants to eat us!" "No it's not, it's cerulaen, and don't yell, you'll upset it." "You mean it's not already upset enough?")

Heeheeheehee...ahem. Yes.
The Writer They Call Tay: DW: Rose cutieawanderingbard on November 14th, 2007 10:24 pm (UTC)
Alright, here's what I've managed. My book characters are a bit rusty, which is why I'm practicing on short pieces. Also, the Doctor decided to be unusually quiet. It's not my fault, I swear. :-)

New Experiences

"Bob! Bob!"

I knocked on the top of the skull sitting amongst a pile of romance novels. He probably wasn't going to like that, but this was an emergency. Agonizingly slow, just to annoy me, the lights in the skull's eyes lit up.

"Hey Harry," he intoned, lazily. "Who's tap-dancing upstairs?" His eye lights glowed a bit brighter. "Ooh, who's the hottie?"

"Bob!" I objected.

"Seriously, Harry, you keep collecting comely young girls, we could start charging admission."

"Is he talking 'bout me?" The blonde girl standing at the bottom of the ladder asked. She looked over her shoulder. "Wait, is he a skull?"

"Don't let that put you off, baby," Bob said.

"That skull is hitting on me," Rose told the men next to her, incredulously.

"Everything that's happened today and you're really that surprised we've met a talking skull?" The Doctor asked her.

"Listen, being chased around by strange blue creatures? Done that," Rose insisted. "Being hit on by a talking skull in the secret cellar of a wizard? New experience!"

"It's not blue," I said. "It's cerulean. Can we focus here, Bob? There is a cerulean monster eating my couch as we speak. I like that couch!"

The creature thumped around upstairs some more, howling away. The three people at the ladder tightened their grip on on their respective weapons. Jack, the third member of the time traveling party, was wielding my gun after running out of bullets for his own. Rose had grabbed Fidelacchius when we came running through my living room, making me wonder for a moment if she was the one I was supposed to give it to. She was holding the sword cane up like a club, though and I figured if she was the next Fist of God, she'd probably know to pull it from the sheath. The Doctor had a small stick-thing with a buzzing blue light on the top of it.

"Is it slimy or sticky?" Bob asked, still staring at Rose's ass.

"Does that matter?" I wondered.

"No, not if you don't care whether it eats you or gets really, really mad at you," he replied.

"Can't get much madder than this!" Jack called.

"Okay, okay," I said. "Poll time: slimy or sticky, guys?"

'Slimy' said the Doctor, Jack and I. 'Sticky' said Rose.

"3-1 it's slimy," I summed up. "You can't kill it with fire, it really doesn't like buzzy blue lights and bullets don't do anything."

"We just haven't shot it enough," Jack objected. "You shoot anything enough, it has an effect."

"I know a cop you'd like," I said. "Actually, remind me never to introduce you to her."

"I'm touched, but there's plenty of me to go around," Jack smarmed, with a wink at me. "No need to be greedy."

"Would you stop flirting?" the Doctor demanded, as I blushed despite my best efforts.

"If you hadn't been flirting, it wouldn't have gotten into the flat in the first place!" Rose added.

The trap door started to rattle. "Bob?" I yelled.

"I want 24 hours," Bob declared.

"You can have 30 minutes and you can't go near Rose," I said.

"Done. Sing."

"What?" We all demanded.

"Sing. They love music. Unless it's sticky, in which case you should never, ever sing."

We all looked at each other and simultaneously burst into 'Row, row, row your boat'. The thumping stopped.

"New experience," Rose muttered.
not quite tame: glee!twelve_pastels on November 14th, 2007 11:46 pm (UTC)
AHHAHAHAHA. PERFECT. So perfect. And Bob. With the staring. And the awesomeness. And eating the couch.

\o/

*Loves you and possibly gropes you a bit*
The Writer They Call Tay: Dresden: walking skullawanderingbard on November 15th, 2007 06:39 pm (UTC)
Oh, good. I'm glad you liked it. Like I said, book characters are a bit of a challenge for me. *possibly gropes you back* ;-)
_medley__medley_ on November 14th, 2007 04:51 pm (UTC)
How about Firefly, something with Mal and Zoe?
The Writer They Call Tay: Firefly: Mal supervisingawanderingbard on November 15th, 2007 04:50 am (UTC)
Meet Cute

Above Mal's head a large flare went off in the sky, lighting up the trench he was in as though it were high noon. The man beside him winced and covered his eyes while Mal took the opportunity to take in the surroundings more clearly. Browncoats lined the trench in both directions, most passing the time as best they could. Some tried to sleep, others read and prayed. A hearty game of poker was happening several yards away.

There was a sudden commotion down the trench and Mal saw a figure somersault over the edge and collapse into the pit. It lay there, unmoving. He hurried down to it. He knelt down to see if the person was alright and found the action end of a gun pointed at his nose.

"Ai ya! Relax!" He exclaimed, holding up his hands in peace.

"You're a browncoat," the owner of the gun stated. It sounded like a woman, though her face was hidden by the collar of her coat.

"Who else is gonna be in this godforsaken hole in the ground?" Mal snapped. He pushed the gun from his face and the collar from hers. "Yer hurt."

"I'm fine," The woman said, through gritted teeth.

"You got a piece of metal sticking out of your forehead," Mal pointed out. "You ain't fine. I'll get a medic."

"Don't need one," the woman insisted.

She took a firm hold of the shrapnel in her head and pulled it out with barely a flinch. Mal looped a bandanna from around his neck and pressed it to the wound.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed. He stole her gun with his free hand.

She pushed the bandanna away, cursing, and tried to stand up, but Mal held her down. It was quite a task to keep her down. Her hands gripped around his wrists and they were freezing.

"Set," he ordered and she stopped fighting with him. As soon as he removed his grip, however, she was trying to get up again. "I will beat you unconscious with your own gun if you don't stay still."

She finally relaxed and he let her go. She stayed still. He pulled his leather gloves off and offered them to her. She refused them but he just kept poking her in the arm with them until she took them and put them on her frozen hands.

"Thank you," she said, reluctantly.

"No problem." He pointed to himself. "Malcolm Reynolds."

"Zoe Alleyne," she replied. "Give me back my gun."
_medley__medley_ on November 15th, 2007 05:01 am (UTC)
::flails a lot:: Oh, AWESOME. That is so perfectly them.

"I will beat you unconscious with your own gun if you don't stay still."

She finally relaxed and he let her go. She stayed still. He pulled his leather gloves off and offered them to her. She refused them but he just kept poking her in the arm with them until she took them and put them on her frozen hands.


I love the whole thing, but this, both what he says and what he does--just perfect. Thank you so much!
The Writer They Call Tay: Firefly: Mal messawanderingbard on November 15th, 2007 06:41 pm (UTC)
Yay! I'm glad you like it. I really love Mal and Zoe's friendship, so thank you for the prompt. :-)
_medley__medley_ on November 15th, 2007 07:10 pm (UTC)
I love it, and I really love Mal and Zoe's friendship, too.
formerly lifeinsomniacjoonscribble on November 14th, 2007 07:02 pm (UTC)
dueSouth - RayK's parents
The Writer They Call Tay: Dresden: wizard wizardingawanderingbard on November 15th, 2007 06:04 pm (UTC)
I haven't seen Easy Money in awhile, so I had to go by transcripts to refresh my memory. Hope this works:

Goodbyes

"I don't see why you have to change your name," Damian Kowalski insisted. "It's a good name."

Stanley Kowalski, soon to be known as the new Ray Vecchio, sighed heavily into the phone and banged his head against the wall a few times. "Dad, it's not my choice, okay? It's undercover. It's not cover if it's me."

"It sounds very dangerous," Barbara fussed. "I don't like you doing it, Stanley. You could be hurt!"

Stan smiled slightly. "I'll be fine, Mom. It's a good career move. New place, new name, new job, new everything."

"You don't need a new anything," Damian stated. "You should be happy with what you have."

"I've already said I'd do it," Stan pointed out. "I'm just calling to let you know what's up. You can't contact me as me. You gotta do it as Ray Vecchio. No letters, no sweaters in the mail, no phone calls. Got that?"

"We'll still be your parents, though, right?" Barbara asked, anxiously.

"You'll be my parents," Stan explained. "But you won't be Ray Vecchio's parents."

"Oh, this is all very confusing," Barbara said.

"It's not confusing," Damian snorted. "Our son has decided he doesn't want to be our son anymore. He wants to be someone else."

"Damian!" Barbara scolded.

"Listen, I gotta go," Stan said, dumping a few things into a duffel bag. "I gotta be debriefed in a hour. I'll talk to you soon."

"Remember to eat well," Barbara said, voice rising as though Stan was actually moving away from her. "And wear your long underwear."

Stan smiled. "I will, Mom."

"Don't do anything stupid," Damian added.

"I'll try," Stan accepted. "Love you, guys."

"I love you too, Stanley," Barbara replied.

"Uh," his father grunted.

Stan clicked the phone off and stared at it for a moment before he zipped up the duffel bag, threw it over his shoulder and headed off to his new life.
formerly lifeinsomniac: MoranSortedjoonscribble on November 15th, 2007 06:34 pm (UTC)
Aw, you got his parents perfectly! I love how Barbara is still so wrapped up in the small things like Ray keeping warm and feeding himself whereas Damian is so obviously hurt at his son's decision to go undercover and doing a somewhat lousy job of hiding it.

Thanks for the ficlet!
The Writer They Call Tay: Dresden: doorawanderingbard on November 15th, 2007 06:42 pm (UTC)
Thanks for the prompt! I'm pretty sure this is the first due South thing I've ever posted. I have stories from ages ago that aren't finished yet, but I don't think I've ever completed one. I'm glad you enjoyed it, though. :-)