[Fic] Three Sentence Ficathon 2021 fills, part seven
Batch the seventh. :)
All prompts drawn from the current iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon (post one and post two), hosted by the wonderful
rthstewart. Come join the fun!
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37. For
schoolsasaint: LotR, Entwives, I am but a small, green, simple object - but I dream of forests, written 2/14/21
Deep Roots Are Not Reached by the Frost (90 words)
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And why, after all, should cherry and apple, citron and pear, plum and pawpaw, avocado and peach, almond and cashew, olive and fig, and all other nourishing trees not be thought part of the forest? Do they not draw from deep roots, gird their trunks with bark, stretch branches toward the sun, and rejoice with bursts of green leaves?
Any tree, however humble and amenable to pruning, transplanting, grafting, pollarding, can break bare rock to richest soil; those who consider any daughter of Kementári tame do so at their peril.
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38. For
undeadrobins: Any, any, lost with you, written 2/16/21
Holding Onto One Another's Hand (170 words)
Fandom = The Magnus Archives
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"The worst part about being blind," Melanie started, then paused to add, "all right, the particular worst part I feel like complaining about today, because they're all the worst part and I refuse to rank them -- is that I knew London like the back of my hand--"
"Meaning a general sense of familiarity that breaks down the moment you get into details, because who spends any time studying the back of their own hand?" Georgie interjected, and dodged Melanie's retaliatory cane-sweep with what was swiftly becoming habitual ease.
"Shut it, you, I'm talking," Melanie said without true heat, "and as I was saying, the worst part about being blind is that it's like I'm eighteen again, new to the city, and stumbling around with no idea where anything is, including myself, or how to get from one point to another... but I suppose it isn't actually the worst part, because this time I have you with me, and I honestly can't think of a person I'd rather be lost with."
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39. For
eagleoftheninth: Any, any, 'kill your darlings, die alone,' written 2/16/21
Consequences (45 words)
Fandom = original
-----
"I hurt you, killed you, drove you away; have you come back to gloat over me as I die?"
A shrug, a cool hand laid gently over bruised and bloody lips.
"I came because nobody deserves to die alone, even if that's what you wanted."
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40. For
notapaladin: Any, any/any, touch-starved character gets hugs, written 2/16/21
Shield Sisters (225 words)
Fandom = The Magnus Archives
-----
As a general rule, other people don't touch police -- at least not in friendly ways -- and within the precinct, Basira's very careful to maintain a professional attitude, polite but not exposing any quirks or cracks that people might use to discount her: as a woman, as a Muslim, as Afro-Arab-Asian not one of us.
She thinks of it as armor she straps on at the start of each shift and sloughs off at the end, a necessary component of the job, and doesn't notice her supports drifting away (parents following Mum's job from Whitehall to New Zealand, brother following his wife to Wexford, baby sister "finding herself" teaching maths in the Shetlands, childhood and uni companions uncomfortable with her choices and slowly finding other friends) until she tries to shuck her professional reserve one evening and realizes not only that she can't reach the buckles, she doesn't have anyone she'd care to show her inner self in any case: her work self has swallowed the rest of her whole.
The first time DI Tonner slings an arm over Basira's shoulder and pulls her close with a smile, as if all Basira's mail and plate were air and gauze, the relief is a sword to her heart, sharp and merciless; Basira bleeds out in moments, and when she resurrects, her armor is big enough for two.
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41. For
violsva: Hidden Almanac/any crossover, any, Visit Scenic Echo Harbour!, written 2/16/21
Interdimensional Tourism (300 words)
Fandom = The Hidden Almanac/Chronicles of Narnia
-----
It was on this day in the Year of the Dubious Monkey that a woman who identified herself only as a visitor from another world appeared in a busy Echo Harbor street, nearly causing several carriage crashes.
When asked why she had come, the visitor responded that she had found a tourist brochure in the mysterious interstitial void between worlds (I pause here to note her assertion that this void takes the form of a forest filled with uncountable small and shallow pools of water; theologians and philosophers have spent generations arguing about how much this assertion can be trusted and what its implications may be) and considered the brochure's presence unusual enough to spend some months tracing its origins.
She was given free lodging in the notoriously tight-fisted Echo Harbor mayor's house while she explored the town, but a close reading of the contemporary newspapers shows that this uncharacteristic hospitality was likely religiously-motivated (the mayor being a devotee of Anachrona, goddess of all things out-of-place, who was then under temple investigation for her insufficient tithing) and had nothing to do with the visitor reportedly being quite attractive for a middle-aged human.
At the end of two weeks, the visitor announced she was no longer surprised that the brochure had found its way to the Wood Between The Worlds, and that while Echo Harbor was fascinating and rewarding to visit, she had other places to be, whereupon she disappeared as abruptly as she had come.
A small plaque in the sidewalk where she vanished marked the occasion for nearly a century, until the street in question was repaved; the plaque is now on display in the Echo Harbor Museum of Local History and Ahistory.
That's the Hidden Almanac for February 16, 2020. Be safe, and remember: you are not alone.
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42. For anonymous: any, any, world's smallest violin, written 2/16/21
Transposition (120 words)
Fandom = Chronicles of Narnia
-----
"The question then becomes, should it have another name?" Edmund mused as he watched the Mouse fiddler scrape away at her tiny instrument, the strings singing out high and shrill and sweet in much the same way as her partner's slender reed pipes or the storyteller's voice. "A viola and a cello are much the same as a violin, only larger and lower, yet we don't call them all the same instrument, just as we have separate names for a flute and a fife, or for bass and soprano singers though both are human voices."
"A violinette, then, or a soprano violin if you must," Susan murmured, "but hush now and be ready to applaud when the piece is done."
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And now, bed. :) If you want to comment on this post, you can do so over here on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)
All prompts drawn from the current iteration of the Three Sentence Ficathon (post one and post two), hosted by the wonderful
rthstewart. Come join the fun!
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
37. For
schoolsasaint: LotR, Entwives, I am but a small, green, simple object - but I dream of forests, written 2/14/21
Deep Roots Are Not Reached by the Frost (90 words)
-----
And why, after all, should cherry and apple, citron and pear, plum and pawpaw, avocado and peach, almond and cashew, olive and fig, and all other nourishing trees not be thought part of the forest? Do they not draw from deep roots, gird their trunks with bark, stretch branches toward the sun, and rejoice with bursts of green leaves?
Any tree, however humble and amenable to pruning, transplanting, grafting, pollarding, can break bare rock to richest soil; those who consider any daughter of Kementári tame do so at their peril.
---------------
---------------
38. For
undeadrobins: Any, any, lost with you, written 2/16/21
Holding Onto One Another's Hand (170 words)
Fandom = The Magnus Archives
-----
"The worst part about being blind," Melanie started, then paused to add, "all right, the particular worst part I feel like complaining about today, because they're all the worst part and I refuse to rank them -- is that I knew London like the back of my hand--"
"Meaning a general sense of familiarity that breaks down the moment you get into details, because who spends any time studying the back of their own hand?" Georgie interjected, and dodged Melanie's retaliatory cane-sweep with what was swiftly becoming habitual ease.
"Shut it, you, I'm talking," Melanie said without true heat, "and as I was saying, the worst part about being blind is that it's like I'm eighteen again, new to the city, and stumbling around with no idea where anything is, including myself, or how to get from one point to another... but I suppose it isn't actually the worst part, because this time I have you with me, and I honestly can't think of a person I'd rather be lost with."
---------------
---------------
39. For
eagleoftheninth: Any, any, 'kill your darlings, die alone,' written 2/16/21
Consequences (45 words)
Fandom = original
-----
"I hurt you, killed you, drove you away; have you come back to gloat over me as I die?"
A shrug, a cool hand laid gently over bruised and bloody lips.
"I came because nobody deserves to die alone, even if that's what you wanted."
---------------
---------------
40. For
notapaladin: Any, any/any, touch-starved character gets hugs, written 2/16/21
Shield Sisters (225 words)
Fandom = The Magnus Archives
-----
As a general rule, other people don't touch police -- at least not in friendly ways -- and within the precinct, Basira's very careful to maintain a professional attitude, polite but not exposing any quirks or cracks that people might use to discount her: as a woman, as a Muslim, as Afro-Arab-Asian not one of us.
She thinks of it as armor she straps on at the start of each shift and sloughs off at the end, a necessary component of the job, and doesn't notice her supports drifting away (parents following Mum's job from Whitehall to New Zealand, brother following his wife to Wexford, baby sister "finding herself" teaching maths in the Shetlands, childhood and uni companions uncomfortable with her choices and slowly finding other friends) until she tries to shuck her professional reserve one evening and realizes not only that she can't reach the buckles, she doesn't have anyone she'd care to show her inner self in any case: her work self has swallowed the rest of her whole.
The first time DI Tonner slings an arm over Basira's shoulder and pulls her close with a smile, as if all Basira's mail and plate were air and gauze, the relief is a sword to her heart, sharp and merciless; Basira bleeds out in moments, and when she resurrects, her armor is big enough for two.
---------------
---------------
41. For
violsva: Hidden Almanac/any crossover, any, Visit Scenic Echo Harbour!, written 2/16/21
Interdimensional Tourism (300 words)
Fandom = The Hidden Almanac/Chronicles of Narnia
-----
It was on this day in the Year of the Dubious Monkey that a woman who identified herself only as a visitor from another world appeared in a busy Echo Harbor street, nearly causing several carriage crashes.
When asked why she had come, the visitor responded that she had found a tourist brochure in the mysterious interstitial void between worlds (I pause here to note her assertion that this void takes the form of a forest filled with uncountable small and shallow pools of water; theologians and philosophers have spent generations arguing about how much this assertion can be trusted and what its implications may be) and considered the brochure's presence unusual enough to spend some months tracing its origins.
She was given free lodging in the notoriously tight-fisted Echo Harbor mayor's house while she explored the town, but a close reading of the contemporary newspapers shows that this uncharacteristic hospitality was likely religiously-motivated (the mayor being a devotee of Anachrona, goddess of all things out-of-place, who was then under temple investigation for her insufficient tithing) and had nothing to do with the visitor reportedly being quite attractive for a middle-aged human.
At the end of two weeks, the visitor announced she was no longer surprised that the brochure had found its way to the Wood Between The Worlds, and that while Echo Harbor was fascinating and rewarding to visit, she had other places to be, whereupon she disappeared as abruptly as she had come.
A small plaque in the sidewalk where she vanished marked the occasion for nearly a century, until the street in question was repaved; the plaque is now on display in the Echo Harbor Museum of Local History and Ahistory.
That's the Hidden Almanac for February 16, 2020. Be safe, and remember: you are not alone.
---------------
---------------
42. For anonymous: any, any, world's smallest violin, written 2/16/21
Transposition (120 words)
Fandom = Chronicles of Narnia
-----
"The question then becomes, should it have another name?" Edmund mused as he watched the Mouse fiddler scrape away at her tiny instrument, the strings singing out high and shrill and sweet in much the same way as her partner's slender reed pipes or the storyteller's voice. "A viola and a cello are much the same as a violin, only larger and lower, yet we don't call them all the same instrument, just as we have separate names for a flute and a fife, or for bass and soprano singers though both are human voices."
"A violinette, then, or a soprano violin if you must," Susan murmured, "but hush now and be ready to applaud when the piece is done."
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
And now, bed. :) If you want to comment on this post, you can do so over here on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)