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sciathan_file: Post a paragraph or a scene from as many of your fics or WIPS as you want, with no explanation attached.
1. Resting her head on arms crossed over the edge of the table, Umi played with the edge of a nearby piece of parchment. “Clef, what does an erection feel like?”
The pen froze, and the soft sound of Clef’s breathing ceased. Had she killed him? Was he too old for such a shock and suffered a heart attack?
“Clef?”
The mage muttered a few nonsensical syllables in reply as he regained some brain function. That was not the type of question he was expecting.
Unable to look at her, Clef set his pen down and uttered his question in a rasp barely above a whisper. “Why would you need to know that?”
Umi smiled, the distraction had begun.
2. Every night the conversations became shorter. He was the reason they would lose the connection. Master Mage Clef was weakening. Slowly at first, but as the days drew on, the decline was accelerating. Soon he would have no strength left.
Then he would be alone.
No one deserved to be alone.
3. Governor Swann had been on the verge of sleep when the made entered his room. Even after three years, he still worried over his daughter. If she was well, why hadn’t she written? If she wasn’t? If something terrible had happened? Why hadn’t he heard anything? Even a rumor. That is why he wasn’t surprised when Martha had come to wake him telling of a visitor. He had been waiting for word for such a long time.
Descending the staircase, Swann watched the silhouette of a man kneel before a small boy in the entry hall. As the man stood, he could just make out the words “There’s a good lad.” The governor had to take a step back when his sleep addled brain registered the resemblance of the boy standing before him to that of a boy pulled from the sea fifteen years ago. With hopefulness he rushed toward the stranger.
“What news do you have of my daughter?”
The man stepped forward. His eyes downcast. A heavy weight upon his shoulders. He placed a warm bundle of cloth in the governor’s arms as if it were a peace offering and turned to let himself back out of the house without saying a word.
Weatherby Swann looked down at the swaddling clothes in his hands. A large pair of brown eyes looked back at him. If he hadn’t known better, he could have sworn that this was his daughter, Elizabeth. Every inch, every hair, was the same as the tiny baby girl he had held in his arms so long ago. He looked up to find the man slipping through the door. Maybe it was the innate swagger in the walk, or the jangle of charms in his hair, or simply a very good guess, but at the moment, the governor knew who was walking out of his home. The man he had hoped, beyond hope, that if his daughter was in fact taken by a pirate, that it was this man.
4. “But Mummy and Daddy could adopt you,” Tony offered for the fourth time that weekend, moving his pawn forward.
The Doctor popped a small handful of crisps into his mouth before he moved his rook and suggested a move to Tony.
“They could, but I don’t want to be Rose’s brother.”
“But…”
“No,” he laughed. “That wouldn’t work. Just trust me on that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated. Grown-up stuff, you know.”
5. Rose stood quietly for a moment as the princess passed them by, before confronting the Doctor for what he knew. The look on his face told her everything. “What happens to her?”
“Nothing,” he cut her off curtly and shoved the final bite of his pastry into his mouth before turning back the marketplace they had come from. “I promised to get you something. Have you chosen it yet?”
“I hate it when you do that,” Rose groused as she found herself having to nearly run to keep up with the moving time lord. “I know you know. It was something bad, wasn’t it?”
He continued to pick up his pace, as if the very thought of what ever it was was a fully bodied form chasing them back to the TARDIS. What could be so awful that he didn’t want to talk about it? He was always listing off how this monarch or that was killed in this way or that. His favourite was the one about Snikkles the 31st who died from choking on his own tongue. Then again the Snikkles line had rather remarkably long tongues, at least four feet in length.
“Is she assassinated? Does she become queen and is assassinated? Or…is she kidnapped?”
The Doctor halted so suddenly, Rose nearly found herself running right into him, she stopped just inches from a painful collision. His face was dark and harsh.
“No. She was not assassinated. And it would have been better for her to have been kidnapped. In five years time, the princess will disappear from her bedroom. Three days after her seventeenth birthday ball.”
You could play guess the fandom and the fic, if you like. It's not too hard for one of them.
sciathan_file: Post a paragraph or a scene from as many of your fics or WIPS as you want, with no explanation attached. 1. Resting her head on arms crossed over the edge of the table, Umi played with the edge of a nearby piece of parchment. “Clef, what does an erection feel like?”
The pen froze, and the soft sound of Clef’s breathing ceased. Had she killed him? Was he too old for such a shock and suffered a heart attack?
“Clef?”
The mage muttered a few nonsensical syllables in reply as he regained some brain function. That was not the type of question he was expecting.
Unable to look at her, Clef set his pen down and uttered his question in a rasp barely above a whisper. “Why would you need to know that?”
Umi smiled, the distraction had begun.
2. Every night the conversations became shorter. He was the reason they would lose the connection. Master Mage Clef was weakening. Slowly at first, but as the days drew on, the decline was accelerating. Soon he would have no strength left.
Then he would be alone.
No one deserved to be alone.
3. Governor Swann had been on the verge of sleep when the made entered his room. Even after three years, he still worried over his daughter. If she was well, why hadn’t she written? If she wasn’t? If something terrible had happened? Why hadn’t he heard anything? Even a rumor. That is why he wasn’t surprised when Martha had come to wake him telling of a visitor. He had been waiting for word for such a long time.
Descending the staircase, Swann watched the silhouette of a man kneel before a small boy in the entry hall. As the man stood, he could just make out the words “There’s a good lad.” The governor had to take a step back when his sleep addled brain registered the resemblance of the boy standing before him to that of a boy pulled from the sea fifteen years ago. With hopefulness he rushed toward the stranger.
“What news do you have of my daughter?”
The man stepped forward. His eyes downcast. A heavy weight upon his shoulders. He placed a warm bundle of cloth in the governor’s arms as if it were a peace offering and turned to let himself back out of the house without saying a word.
Weatherby Swann looked down at the swaddling clothes in his hands. A large pair of brown eyes looked back at him. If he hadn’t known better, he could have sworn that this was his daughter, Elizabeth. Every inch, every hair, was the same as the tiny baby girl he had held in his arms so long ago. He looked up to find the man slipping through the door. Maybe it was the innate swagger in the walk, or the jangle of charms in his hair, or simply a very good guess, but at the moment, the governor knew who was walking out of his home. The man he had hoped, beyond hope, that if his daughter was in fact taken by a pirate, that it was this man.
4. “But Mummy and Daddy could adopt you,” Tony offered for the fourth time that weekend, moving his pawn forward.
The Doctor popped a small handful of crisps into his mouth before he moved his rook and suggested a move to Tony.
“They could, but I don’t want to be Rose’s brother.”
“But…”
“No,” he laughed. “That wouldn’t work. Just trust me on that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated. Grown-up stuff, you know.”
5. Rose stood quietly for a moment as the princess passed them by, before confronting the Doctor for what he knew. The look on his face told her everything. “What happens to her?”
“Nothing,” he cut her off curtly and shoved the final bite of his pastry into his mouth before turning back the marketplace they had come from. “I promised to get you something. Have you chosen it yet?”
“I hate it when you do that,” Rose groused as she found herself having to nearly run to keep up with the moving time lord. “I know you know. It was something bad, wasn’t it?”
He continued to pick up his pace, as if the very thought of what ever it was was a fully bodied form chasing them back to the TARDIS. What could be so awful that he didn’t want to talk about it? He was always listing off how this monarch or that was killed in this way or that. His favourite was the one about Snikkles the 31st who died from choking on his own tongue. Then again the Snikkles line had rather remarkably long tongues, at least four feet in length.
“Is she assassinated? Does she become queen and is assassinated? Or…is she kidnapped?”
The Doctor halted so suddenly, Rose nearly found herself running right into him, she stopped just inches from a painful collision. His face was dark and harsh.
“No. She was not assassinated. And it would have been better for her to have been kidnapped. In five years time, the princess will disappear from her bedroom. Three days after her seventeenth birthday ball.”
You could play guess the fandom and the fic, if you like. It's not too hard for one of them.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2010-03-25 07:42 am (UTC)I know what number 4 is .. ner ner .. :P
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Date: 2010-03-25 02:25 pm (UTC)