8 busy bees
So I just about made it on time with these and I will admit to being a tab liberal with the prompts, but none-the-less.
On the eighth day of Christmas...
Eight budy bees, seven treasure chests, six unusual readings, five tall towers, four meals of note, three delightful sights, two locked doors, and the beginning of a journey.
Fandom: Person of Interest
Rating: PG
“Most of the people that the machine gives us have no idea that they're going to die”, Finch sounded forlorn - or at least more forlorn that usual. Reese looked up from his book and waited for an addition to the sentence; waited patiently as Finch limped over to the window and looked out of it for a moment, then returned to his desk.
“They're so busy rushing around they have no idea that their world is going to end”
“That's why we're here isn't it?”, Reese leant back in his chair, kept his voice soft to keep his boss - or friend, he wasn't quite sure of the arrangement here - talking.
“We'll always miss some though - I just wish we could...”, and Finch fell silent, his face stiffened and he spun in his chair to the machine, scribbled something down from the screen and held out the torn-off piece of paper in silence.
With a soundless chuckle, Reese got to his feet and shoved a bookmark in his book. As he took the piece of paper from Finch, the older man resolutely avoided his gaze.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG
Considering she was usually the last line of defense between humanity and the big bads that go bump in the night, one might think the universe would give her a break. As it was, it often seemed like she'd gotten a raw deal.
Buffy listened to the silence in the house and sighed - she wondered if the others realised how often she felt left behind. They were all so busy, branching out to new places, learning new things, meeting new people. Busy, busy, busy.
They weren't stuck in one place with only new uglies, new weapons and new ways for the world end. It probably seemed exciting from the outside, after all who didn't want to be a hero.
Every time she started running, started to catch up with everyone else, the slayer gig found some way to bring her to a grinding halt. She got to watch everyone else rush around whilst she stood in one place.
Fandom: Malory Towers
Rating: PG
Sally wanted to enjoy going out to the pub - for the social side of it as well as for Darrell's sake. But it was just so loud, so busy and people got so...
Darrell didn't drink, which surprised Sally, but she was social and she knew so many people. All night people drifted towards Darrell; sometimes it seemed as though half the university wanted to speak to her. When too many people started to swarm around, and the noise rose to a constant chatter...it made Sally's head hurt.
Sally saw the sideways glances and overheard bits of whispers that she was sure she was meant to hear - some familiar jibes from Alicia, when her tongue was loosened by alcohol, and some new from people whose names she could never quite remember.
Sally had tried drinking, hoping it might help, but all it did was make it difficult for her to remember to control her own thoughts and actions. The alcohol made her own brain busy, flooded with thoughts and intentions until the inside of her mind buzzed. It made her do things like leave her hand on Darrell's arm for a fraction too long, or to touch Darrell's leg or waist in a way that was much more than friendly, or to let her gaze remain on her friend for longer than she should.
Darrell never seemed to mind, but the looks and the whispers got more frequent...
Fandom: Bioshock
Rating: PG-13
Since the first moment Jack had plunged that needle into his arm and unlocked the power of the plasmids - he had known pain beyond that which he thought it possible for a man to endure. The first time he injected the plasmids he had passed out, his skin felt as though it were wrenched from his body.
The elements, the powers that flew from his fists and palms had to be generated deep inside. Fire brought forth a blaze in his veins, ice came with a chill so deep he feared his blood would still and freeze inside of him, but the insect swarm was a pain beyond that.
Bees, numbered in hundreds, started their journey as tiny beasts crawling beneath his skin. The lumps of their rounded bodies would emerge and grow in size until they burst forth from his hands in full size.
The pain lessened each time he used them, but these plasmids sure came at one hell of a price.
Fandom: Afro Samurai
Rating: PG-13
There was a wonderful clarity when you held a sword within your hands.
Afro always did like blades - long before he started on this journey. His father's sword collection had been of particular interest to him, and that interest grew alongside Afro.
The fascinating thing about wielding a sword, was the way the world changed the first time you swung it with the intention to kill. From the outside fights look so busy; and the more people there are, the busier it gets. People rush back and forth, dash in towards you and then make sudden lunges to the side.
An outsider would lose track of people, would struggle to work out who had made that killing blow or who had once been the proud owner of the arm that was rolling at their feet.
Inside the fight, with the blade held just so between your palms, and even with blood and sweat in your eyes, everything was so clear. Each slice of the blade happened in slow motion, every move was so precise, and your mind gained a certain type of clarity.
It was often the only clarity Afro had.
Fandom: The Saboteur
Rating: PG-13
Despite the threatening rain, Sean Devlin remained on the rooftop with a cigarette held firmly between his lips and a box of matches squeezed in one hand. The internal countdown had started as soon as he had set the timer - it was a good way of making sure he got out in one piece.
He counted through the seconds, his heart raced as it came to the final ten second countdown - five - one.
The blast was larger than he had expected, and the explosion mushroomed up into the sky and lit up the Parisian night. There was a moment where there was nothing but the ringing of the blast through the night.
Then the people started running.
Most ran away from the blast - a few inexplicable ran towards it - and then in a matter of seconds the street beneath his was full of people and movement. They lost their individuality in that mass of bodies below him, became just a blur of panic in their desperate attempts to flee.
Sean lit his cigarette and made his own escape.
Fandom: Numb3rs
Rating: PG
“You see Don, we used to think that bees were just randomly moving objects and that the flowers they landed on were just randomly selected targets”, Charlie began drawing on the white board, aware that some of the other agents had already begun to roll their eyes, “that no flower was more or less likely to be landed on than any other.” He glanced over his shoulder, sated when he saw that his brother was still listening, “but turns out we were wrong”
“Shocker”, there was a mutter from near the back but Charlie shrugged it off,
“Thanks to research from Klages and Chittka, we now know that bees change their foraging behaviour depending upon the presence or absence of predators”, Charlie reached over his head to carry on with his diagram.
“So in this scenario, we”, and Don made a circular movement with his hand, “are the predators right?”
“Well I ain't a friggin' bumble bee”, it was that same voice again and Charlie knew that Don could hear it, and a small part of him wondered why Don didn't speak out and silence it.
“Right...so if our collection of criminals are the bees then we need to determine how their foraging behaviour is affected by your presence, and to do that...”, he reached up and started to quickly write out equations, very aware that this was the part of his process that Don got most impatient with. He hated to rush through - hated to present mathematics in such a scrawl but working here demanded it.
He could see some of the others losing their patience out of the corner of his eye; but when he glanced back at Don, his older brother was still watching.
Fandom: Rizzoli and Isles
Rating: PG
“It hardly seems fair”, Maura's voice rang through the relative silence of the living room and Jane lifted her gaze from the file in front of her.
“What does? Has someone hurt one of the....what are you watching anyway?”
“It's a documentary about bees”, Maura replied, “and it's ridiculous that so few people care that the honey bee is going to become extinct if we don't do something about it”. Jane eased herself off the stool she had spent the last hour perched on, winced at the pain that crawled up her spine, and sauntered over to stand beside the sofa.
“Did you know that researchers believe their venom may be able to prevent HIV? Of course the research is still in the early stages... and they pollinate billions of pounds worth of crops every year. Just because they're not cute like pandas...”, and before Maura could start rambling onto the mating habits of the South Dakota honey bee or something, Jane ruffled her hair and plonked herself down on the sofa next to her.
The look of indignation from Maura was worth having silenced her.
“Do you know how long it takes for me to do this in the morning?”
“Yes”, Jane relaxed down into the sofa and grinned at Maura, “how about I buy you some honey bees? You can have a new hobby and help save the environment?”
“Would you?”, and it had only been meant as a joke, but the look on Maura's face made Jane chuckle,
“Sure...whatever makes you happy”.
On the eighth day of Christmas...
Eight budy bees, seven treasure chests, six unusual readings, five tall towers, four meals of note, three delightful sights, two locked doors, and the beginning of a journey.
Fandom: Person of Interest
Rating: PG
“Most of the people that the machine gives us have no idea that they're going to die”, Finch sounded forlorn - or at least more forlorn that usual. Reese looked up from his book and waited for an addition to the sentence; waited patiently as Finch limped over to the window and looked out of it for a moment, then returned to his desk.
“They're so busy rushing around they have no idea that their world is going to end”
“That's why we're here isn't it?”, Reese leant back in his chair, kept his voice soft to keep his boss - or friend, he wasn't quite sure of the arrangement here - talking.
“We'll always miss some though - I just wish we could...”, and Finch fell silent, his face stiffened and he spun in his chair to the machine, scribbled something down from the screen and held out the torn-off piece of paper in silence.
With a soundless chuckle, Reese got to his feet and shoved a bookmark in his book. As he took the piece of paper from Finch, the older man resolutely avoided his gaze.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG
Considering she was usually the last line of defense between humanity and the big bads that go bump in the night, one might think the universe would give her a break. As it was, it often seemed like she'd gotten a raw deal.
Buffy listened to the silence in the house and sighed - she wondered if the others realised how often she felt left behind. They were all so busy, branching out to new places, learning new things, meeting new people. Busy, busy, busy.
They weren't stuck in one place with only new uglies, new weapons and new ways for the world end. It probably seemed exciting from the outside, after all who didn't want to be a hero.
Every time she started running, started to catch up with everyone else, the slayer gig found some way to bring her to a grinding halt. She got to watch everyone else rush around whilst she stood in one place.
Fandom: Malory Towers
Rating: PG
Sally wanted to enjoy going out to the pub - for the social side of it as well as for Darrell's sake. But it was just so loud, so busy and people got so...
Darrell didn't drink, which surprised Sally, but she was social and she knew so many people. All night people drifted towards Darrell; sometimes it seemed as though half the university wanted to speak to her. When too many people started to swarm around, and the noise rose to a constant chatter...it made Sally's head hurt.
Sally saw the sideways glances and overheard bits of whispers that she was sure she was meant to hear - some familiar jibes from Alicia, when her tongue was loosened by alcohol, and some new from people whose names she could never quite remember.
Sally had tried drinking, hoping it might help, but all it did was make it difficult for her to remember to control her own thoughts and actions. The alcohol made her own brain busy, flooded with thoughts and intentions until the inside of her mind buzzed. It made her do things like leave her hand on Darrell's arm for a fraction too long, or to touch Darrell's leg or waist in a way that was much more than friendly, or to let her gaze remain on her friend for longer than she should.
Darrell never seemed to mind, but the looks and the whispers got more frequent...
Fandom: Bioshock
Rating: PG-13
Since the first moment Jack had plunged that needle into his arm and unlocked the power of the plasmids - he had known pain beyond that which he thought it possible for a man to endure. The first time he injected the plasmids he had passed out, his skin felt as though it were wrenched from his body.
The elements, the powers that flew from his fists and palms had to be generated deep inside. Fire brought forth a blaze in his veins, ice came with a chill so deep he feared his blood would still and freeze inside of him, but the insect swarm was a pain beyond that.
Bees, numbered in hundreds, started their journey as tiny beasts crawling beneath his skin. The lumps of their rounded bodies would emerge and grow in size until they burst forth from his hands in full size.
The pain lessened each time he used them, but these plasmids sure came at one hell of a price.
Fandom: Afro Samurai
Rating: PG-13
There was a wonderful clarity when you held a sword within your hands.
Afro always did like blades - long before he started on this journey. His father's sword collection had been of particular interest to him, and that interest grew alongside Afro.
The fascinating thing about wielding a sword, was the way the world changed the first time you swung it with the intention to kill. From the outside fights look so busy; and the more people there are, the busier it gets. People rush back and forth, dash in towards you and then make sudden lunges to the side.
An outsider would lose track of people, would struggle to work out who had made that killing blow or who had once been the proud owner of the arm that was rolling at their feet.
Inside the fight, with the blade held just so between your palms, and even with blood and sweat in your eyes, everything was so clear. Each slice of the blade happened in slow motion, every move was so precise, and your mind gained a certain type of clarity.
It was often the only clarity Afro had.
Fandom: The Saboteur
Rating: PG-13
Despite the threatening rain, Sean Devlin remained on the rooftop with a cigarette held firmly between his lips and a box of matches squeezed in one hand. The internal countdown had started as soon as he had set the timer - it was a good way of making sure he got out in one piece.
He counted through the seconds, his heart raced as it came to the final ten second countdown - five - one.
The blast was larger than he had expected, and the explosion mushroomed up into the sky and lit up the Parisian night. There was a moment where there was nothing but the ringing of the blast through the night.
Then the people started running.
Most ran away from the blast - a few inexplicable ran towards it - and then in a matter of seconds the street beneath his was full of people and movement. They lost their individuality in that mass of bodies below him, became just a blur of panic in their desperate attempts to flee.
Sean lit his cigarette and made his own escape.
Fandom: Numb3rs
Rating: PG
“You see Don, we used to think that bees were just randomly moving objects and that the flowers they landed on were just randomly selected targets”, Charlie began drawing on the white board, aware that some of the other agents had already begun to roll their eyes, “that no flower was more or less likely to be landed on than any other.” He glanced over his shoulder, sated when he saw that his brother was still listening, “but turns out we were wrong”
“Shocker”, there was a mutter from near the back but Charlie shrugged it off,
“Thanks to research from Klages and Chittka, we now know that bees change their foraging behaviour depending upon the presence or absence of predators”, Charlie reached over his head to carry on with his diagram.
“So in this scenario, we”, and Don made a circular movement with his hand, “are the predators right?”
“Well I ain't a friggin' bumble bee”, it was that same voice again and Charlie knew that Don could hear it, and a small part of him wondered why Don didn't speak out and silence it.
“Right...so if our collection of criminals are the bees then we need to determine how their foraging behaviour is affected by your presence, and to do that...”, he reached up and started to quickly write out equations, very aware that this was the part of his process that Don got most impatient with. He hated to rush through - hated to present mathematics in such a scrawl but working here demanded it.
He could see some of the others losing their patience out of the corner of his eye; but when he glanced back at Don, his older brother was still watching.
Fandom: Rizzoli and Isles
Rating: PG
“It hardly seems fair”, Maura's voice rang through the relative silence of the living room and Jane lifted her gaze from the file in front of her.
“What does? Has someone hurt one of the....what are you watching anyway?”
“It's a documentary about bees”, Maura replied, “and it's ridiculous that so few people care that the honey bee is going to become extinct if we don't do something about it”. Jane eased herself off the stool she had spent the last hour perched on, winced at the pain that crawled up her spine, and sauntered over to stand beside the sofa.
“Did you know that researchers believe their venom may be able to prevent HIV? Of course the research is still in the early stages... and they pollinate billions of pounds worth of crops every year. Just because they're not cute like pandas...”, and before Maura could start rambling onto the mating habits of the South Dakota honey bee or something, Jane ruffled her hair and plonked herself down on the sofa next to her.
The look of indignation from Maura was worth having silenced her.
“Do you know how long it takes for me to do this in the morning?”
“Yes”, Jane relaxed down into the sofa and grinned at Maura, “how about I buy you some honey bees? You can have a new hobby and help save the environment?”
“Would you?”, and it had only been meant as a joke, but the look on Maura's face made Jane chuckle,
“Sure...whatever makes you happy”.