Last batch of the request drabbles
*flops* I wrote most of these twice, because my scratchbook file got corrupted.
For shineko: Pirates of the Caribbean, 100 words
GUIDANCE
Only a black box inlaid with yellowing ivory, shiny in a way that had little to do with polish and much with grasping hands. The sides were warm to the touch, though the domed lid emanated cold. If he opened it, it would point to what he really wanted. No more dilemmas, no more self-deception. Answers to all his questions, right there in Jack Sparrow’s compass in the palm of his hand.
Will smiled and waved the compass high enough to catch the helmsman’s eye. “Jack, you dropped something!”
He would let Jack Sparrow guide him for a while longer.
FIN
For ciciaye: Angel the Series, 100 words
VANITY VARNISH
“I like these,” Lindsey says as he comes into the apartment while Spike’s painting his nails.
“Oh, fuck off!” Spike snarls. “Ain’t like Angel hasn’t got his hair gel thing, right? I want to wear nail varnish, I’ll wear nail varnish! Make it the new hero thing! Don’t tell me what to do. I’ve had enough!”
The table tips over. The bottles clatter to the floor. The nail varnish remover spills, filling the air with the sharp smell of acetone. He’ll need to buy a new one.
“I’ve had enough,” Spike whispers.
Lindsey smiles. “I just said I like these.”
FIN
For elefwin: Star Wars, 130 words
SILENT
All you can see from the balcony are the clouds. One moon is rising, another falling, but it’s the core of the galaxy that sets the sky on fire.
“What is it that you’re looking at, Qui-Gon? It seems you’ve been staring at the clouds for the past hour.”
“Only the clouds, Master. I watch their shapes. Look, that one looks like a Malastarian Dug.”
“It only looks misshapen to me.”
“From the other side, we could see the lower limbs clearly, and the snout.”
“How do you know that?”
“The Force tells me.”
“The Living Force?”
“Yes, Master. The clouds are rich in it.”
The younger of the Jedi smiles ruefully. The older one looks intently at the sky, forcing, hoping, fearing for an answer.
The sky remains silent.
FIN
For fyrie: Phantom of the Opera, 114 words, same universe as Singing Songs In My Head
HIDE YOUR FACE
Somehow Raoul always imagined the mask was porcelain, as cold to the touch as the stones of the cellars under the Opera. But it’s leather, body-warmed, clinging to his fingers as if eager to hide him, shelter him from the world. It’s easy to fall in love with it, he thinks.
Erik - not the Phantom, not without this mask - makes an annoyed sound that probably means a stubborn note is refusing to find its assigned place. Pigeons croon outside the window; for them, the carvings on the roof of the Opera Populaire are rock formations to build their nests in.
Raoul puts the mask back behind the books about music and history and poison.
FIN
For kyrre: Batman Begins, 125 words
COMMUNICATIVA
He may be centuries old, but Ra’s Al Ghul has never allowed himself to fall behind the times. Accordingly, he utilises the new advances in communication to his advantage. His cell phone is the latest model from a line designed to withstand impacts and water, able to talk to every man and machine in his organisation and record Ra’s Al Ghul’s interactions with them should he wish to. The phone has separate address books for Henri Ducard and "R. al G.", the latter biometrically protected in case he has to abandon the device. But it is lacking, and he makes a voice-note to make sure his next phone has a Braille-marked keyboard.
Until the Lazarus Pit heals his eyes, Talia has to dial for him.
FIN
For alice_montrose: Roses for Lucifer, 160 words
PRACTICAL APPLICATIONS
There were over a hundred rooms in the castle of the Graf von Krolock. Vlad Draculea was fairly sure that by now he should have made it through them all and out the gate a dozen times over, but behind every third door he opened, there was that bedamned portrait gallery again.
He snarled and kicked a chair, breaking off one of its legs. Something tickled his mind, the sensation one of amusement.
“Fine!” he yelled. “Your toy’s good. I can’t find a way out unless I tear the walls down! Happy now?”
The shadows swirled, then parted. Johannes was smiling in that infuriating way of his. “I warded the walls as well. I believe the way Herbert put it was that people will ‘bounce off’ them now.”
Vlad growled. Then a thought of another test for those wards occurred to him.
Johannes complained as usual, but the bounciness did add something new to ravishing him against the wall.
FIN
Bonus question: Can someone give me an Elisabeth idea, preferably something featuring Sisi herself with a side of Death? She wants fic, I'm fresh out of bunnies.
For shineko: Pirates of the Caribbean, 100 words
GUIDANCE
Only a black box inlaid with yellowing ivory, shiny in a way that had little to do with polish and much with grasping hands. The sides were warm to the touch, though the domed lid emanated cold. If he opened it, it would point to what he really wanted. No more dilemmas, no more self-deception. Answers to all his questions, right there in Jack Sparrow’s compass in the palm of his hand.
Will smiled and waved the compass high enough to catch the helmsman’s eye. “Jack, you dropped something!”
He would let Jack Sparrow guide him for a while longer.
FIN
For ciciaye: Angel the Series, 100 words
VANITY VARNISH
“I like these,” Lindsey says as he comes into the apartment while Spike’s painting his nails.
“Oh, fuck off!” Spike snarls. “Ain’t like Angel hasn’t got his hair gel thing, right? I want to wear nail varnish, I’ll wear nail varnish! Make it the new hero thing! Don’t tell me what to do. I’ve had enough!”
The table tips over. The bottles clatter to the floor. The nail varnish remover spills, filling the air with the sharp smell of acetone. He’ll need to buy a new one.
“I’ve had enough,” Spike whispers.
Lindsey smiles. “I just said I like these.”
FIN
For elefwin: Star Wars, 130 words
SILENT
All you can see from the balcony are the clouds. One moon is rising, another falling, but it’s the core of the galaxy that sets the sky on fire.
“What is it that you’re looking at, Qui-Gon? It seems you’ve been staring at the clouds for the past hour.”
“Only the clouds, Master. I watch their shapes. Look, that one looks like a Malastarian Dug.”
“It only looks misshapen to me.”
“From the other side, we could see the lower limbs clearly, and the snout.”
“How do you know that?”
“The Force tells me.”
“The Living Force?”
“Yes, Master. The clouds are rich in it.”
The younger of the Jedi smiles ruefully. The older one looks intently at the sky, forcing, hoping, fearing for an answer.
The sky remains silent.
FIN
For fyrie: Phantom of the Opera, 114 words, same universe as Singing Songs In My Head
HIDE YOUR FACE
Somehow Raoul always imagined the mask was porcelain, as cold to the touch as the stones of the cellars under the Opera. But it’s leather, body-warmed, clinging to his fingers as if eager to hide him, shelter him from the world. It’s easy to fall in love with it, he thinks.
Erik - not the Phantom, not without this mask - makes an annoyed sound that probably means a stubborn note is refusing to find its assigned place. Pigeons croon outside the window; for them, the carvings on the roof of the Opera Populaire are rock formations to build their nests in.
Raoul puts the mask back behind the books about music and history and poison.
FIN
For kyrre: Batman Begins, 125 words
COMMUNICATIVA
He may be centuries old, but Ra’s Al Ghul has never allowed himself to fall behind the times. Accordingly, he utilises the new advances in communication to his advantage. His cell phone is the latest model from a line designed to withstand impacts and water, able to talk to every man and machine in his organisation and record Ra’s Al Ghul’s interactions with them should he wish to. The phone has separate address books for Henri Ducard and "R. al G.", the latter biometrically protected in case he has to abandon the device. But it is lacking, and he makes a voice-note to make sure his next phone has a Braille-marked keyboard.
Until the Lazarus Pit heals his eyes, Talia has to dial for him.
FIN
For alice_montrose: Roses for Lucifer, 160 words
PRACTICAL APPLICATIONS
There were over a hundred rooms in the castle of the Graf von Krolock. Vlad Draculea was fairly sure that by now he should have made it through them all and out the gate a dozen times over, but behind every third door he opened, there was that bedamned portrait gallery again.
He snarled and kicked a chair, breaking off one of its legs. Something tickled his mind, the sensation one of amusement.
“Fine!” he yelled. “Your toy’s good. I can’t find a way out unless I tear the walls down! Happy now?”
The shadows swirled, then parted. Johannes was smiling in that infuriating way of his. “I warded the walls as well. I believe the way Herbert put it was that people will ‘bounce off’ them now.”
Vlad growled. Then a thought of another test for those wards occurred to him.
Johannes complained as usual, but the bounciness did add something new to ravishing him against the wall.
FIN
Bonus question: Can someone give me an Elisabeth idea, preferably something featuring Sisi herself with a side of Death? She wants fic, I'm fresh out of bunnies.