The 2015 3-Sentence Ficathon Round-Up
Once again, 
rthstewart is hosting the 3-Sentence Ficathon. It's currently 23 pages long, but there's plenty of unfilled requests if anyone's curious and has time to scroll through it all. I want to fill some of the back requests but I'm finding it very hard to be inspired and come up with anything good (or in just 3 sentences).
Prompt from saoirse7: Sherlock (BBC), Mrs. Hudson, I'm adding that to your rent
She looked up at enormous hole in the ceiling with a sigh, the resignation on her face hidden by the open umbrella she held to keep the water-she hoped it was water-off her body. She decided it was time to follow John's advice and slipped the note with the increase warning under her tenants' door.
When she received next month's payment and saw it was thrice as much as she asked, she wondered if Sherlock was working on another experiment and decided to wisely hold off making repairs to the building for at least a fortnight.
Originally posted here.
Prompt from saoirse7: Narnia, Peter, relearning the art of war
He watched as Edmund and his escorts marched away toward the Telmarine camp to deliver the High King's challenge to the usurper. With his own part done, it now fell to his brother and all he could do is sit and wait to see what answer Miraz would issue.
It might have been a year since he had to deal with (and nearly forgot about) such things but he remembered well enough that battles worth fighting did not always begin with armour and swords.
Originally posted here.
Prompt from
penelopes: The White Queen, Anne Neville/Richard III, you could be the one I'll always love
Anne had always envied her older sister in everything that mattered but marriage. She remembered well the fear and the horror of seeing Isabel in so much pain as she tried her best to bring a child into the world on that awful ship in the midst of that awful storm.
It was certain another political marriage would be in her own future but for now, she rather enjoyed the attentions of a Prince who also knew too well what it was like to be a pawn in the intrigue that surrounded them all.
Originally posted here.
Prompt from
transposable_element: Narnia (actually Calormen), Lasaraleen/author's choice, that's why I call everybody darling
"It's currently all the rage in Azim Balda, darling," she says as she handed the cup of heavily sweetened and spiced posca to Prince Radenos, seventh son of the Tisroc (may he live forever) and the guest of honour at her husband's birthday banquet, "and you've no idea how many merchants I've had to bribe just to get a case of it for my lord Tarkaan's celebration tonight."
"As the poets once said-," the Prince began but quieted as she put a finger to his lips and filled his soon-emptied goblet once more.
"It's best savoured in silence, darling," she breathed huskily in his ear, using her most seductive voice and oft-used endearment to bend even the most troublesome of men to her will.
Originally posted here.
Prompt from yabumi: Agent Carter, Peggy, Jarvis, PG Tips
I:
"Sugar? Milk?" Jarvis asks as he sets the heavily loaded tray in front of her, the silverware brushed, gleaming and spotless, throwing miniature beams of light in all direction as each cup and pot dazzled in the sunlight.
Peggy bends over and removes the lid from the steaming pot and deeply inhales the heady scent of perfectly brewed tea.
"Smells lovely but," and here she gives the man a dazzling smile as she replaces the lid, "I don't suppose I could have a cup of coffee instead of PG Tips?"
II:
For all her remarkable and quite extraordinary qualities, it was this one request that stained her otherwise impeccable (or so he thought) character.
"Coffee?" he asks, barely able to keep the disapproval and disappointment from the simple question.
It seems she could read his mind for she offers an apologetic smile and says, "I've been in the company of Americans far too long and they've never learned to make a proper cuppa-it's really no surprise they tossed the tea crates into Boston harbour all those years ago."
Originally posted here.
Prompt from mazephoenix: Angel, Illyria/Wesley, "You are what she could never be again."
It was bad enough that Illyria inhabited her body but it always unnerved him when the Old One actually looked like and sounded exactly like her... his Fred. Even in his dying breath, he still wanted to see her one last time and Illyria was human enough to grant him this one last wish.
"My Wesley," she said softly and even though he knew it was a lie, it was enough to see her-his Fred-alive and whole as the last thing he'd ever see in this mortal life.
Originally posted here.
Prompt from
alexseanchai: Any, Any, Knitting (Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, Phryne Fisher, Dorothy Williams)
Phryne stooped and picked up the ball of yarn that stopped at the tip of her shoes and as she handed the wayward wool to Dot, asked, "Are you knitting something new or fixing something old?"
"New, Miss," Dot replied as she held up her work in progress-a long narrow tube with the bottom all stitched up to form a pocket of sorts-and with an uncertain smile, added, "I'm making socks to go with the birthday present from Hugh."
"Ahh," the Honourable Miss Fisher nodded and knowing how disappointed her companion was in receiving such a gift from the kind but slightly oblivious Constable, tried to cheer her up with some sage advice: "You must look at it this way, Dot-a pair of boots is far more practical when running around chasing murderers and they last much longer than a bouquet of flowers."
Originally posted here.
Crosspost: http://autumnia.dreamwidth.org/32721.html
rthstewart is hosting the 3-Sentence Ficathon. It's currently 23 pages long, but there's plenty of unfilled requests if anyone's curious and has time to scroll through it all. I want to fill some of the back requests but I'm finding it very hard to be inspired and come up with anything good (or in just 3 sentences).
Prompt from saoirse7: Sherlock (BBC), Mrs. Hudson, I'm adding that to your rent
She looked up at enormous hole in the ceiling with a sigh, the resignation on her face hidden by the open umbrella she held to keep the water-she hoped it was water-off her body. She decided it was time to follow John's advice and slipped the note with the increase warning under her tenants' door.
When she received next month's payment and saw it was thrice as much as she asked, she wondered if Sherlock was working on another experiment and decided to wisely hold off making repairs to the building for at least a fortnight.
Originally posted here.
Prompt from saoirse7: Narnia, Peter, relearning the art of war
He watched as Edmund and his escorts marched away toward the Telmarine camp to deliver the High King's challenge to the usurper. With his own part done, it now fell to his brother and all he could do is sit and wait to see what answer Miraz would issue.
It might have been a year since he had to deal with (and nearly forgot about) such things but he remembered well enough that battles worth fighting did not always begin with armour and swords.
Originally posted here.
Prompt from
penelopes: The White Queen, Anne Neville/Richard III, you could be the one I'll always love
Anne had always envied her older sister in everything that mattered but marriage. She remembered well the fear and the horror of seeing Isabel in so much pain as she tried her best to bring a child into the world on that awful ship in the midst of that awful storm.
It was certain another political marriage would be in her own future but for now, she rather enjoyed the attentions of a Prince who also knew too well what it was like to be a pawn in the intrigue that surrounded them all.
Originally posted here.
Prompt from
transposable_element: Narnia (actually Calormen), Lasaraleen/author's choice, that's why I call everybody darling
"It's currently all the rage in Azim Balda, darling," she says as she handed the cup of heavily sweetened and spiced posca to Prince Radenos, seventh son of the Tisroc (may he live forever) and the guest of honour at her husband's birthday banquet, "and you've no idea how many merchants I've had to bribe just to get a case of it for my lord Tarkaan's celebration tonight."
"As the poets once said-," the Prince began but quieted as she put a finger to his lips and filled his soon-emptied goblet once more.
"It's best savoured in silence, darling," she breathed huskily in his ear, using her most seductive voice and oft-used endearment to bend even the most troublesome of men to her will.
Originally posted here.
Prompt from yabumi: Agent Carter, Peggy, Jarvis, PG Tips
I:
"Sugar? Milk?" Jarvis asks as he sets the heavily loaded tray in front of her, the silverware brushed, gleaming and spotless, throwing miniature beams of light in all direction as each cup and pot dazzled in the sunlight.
Peggy bends over and removes the lid from the steaming pot and deeply inhales the heady scent of perfectly brewed tea.
"Smells lovely but," and here she gives the man a dazzling smile as she replaces the lid, "I don't suppose I could have a cup of coffee instead of PG Tips?"
II:
For all her remarkable and quite extraordinary qualities, it was this one request that stained her otherwise impeccable (or so he thought) character.
"Coffee?" he asks, barely able to keep the disapproval and disappointment from the simple question.
It seems she could read his mind for she offers an apologetic smile and says, "I've been in the company of Americans far too long and they've never learned to make a proper cuppa-it's really no surprise they tossed the tea crates into Boston harbour all those years ago."
Originally posted here.
Prompt from mazephoenix: Angel, Illyria/Wesley, "You are what she could never be again."
It was bad enough that Illyria inhabited her body but it always unnerved him when the Old One actually looked like and sounded exactly like her... his Fred. Even in his dying breath, he still wanted to see her one last time and Illyria was human enough to grant him this one last wish.
"My Wesley," she said softly and even though he knew it was a lie, it was enough to see her-his Fred-alive and whole as the last thing he'd ever see in this mortal life.
Originally posted here.
Prompt from
alexseanchai: Any, Any, Knitting (Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, Phryne Fisher, Dorothy Williams)
Phryne stooped and picked up the ball of yarn that stopped at the tip of her shoes and as she handed the wayward wool to Dot, asked, "Are you knitting something new or fixing something old?"
"New, Miss," Dot replied as she held up her work in progress-a long narrow tube with the bottom all stitched up to form a pocket of sorts-and with an uncertain smile, added, "I'm making socks to go with the birthday present from Hugh."
"Ahh," the Honourable Miss Fisher nodded and knowing how disappointed her companion was in receiving such a gift from the kind but slightly oblivious Constable, tried to cheer her up with some sage advice: "You must look at it this way, Dot-a pair of boots is far more practical when running around chasing murderers and they last much longer than a bouquet of flowers."
Originally posted here.
Crosspost: http://autumnia.dreamwidth.org/32721.html