SUMMERPORNATHON Bonus #2
So, part of the whole summerpornathon thing is that one, we write an anonymous drabble of 500-750 words that matches the prompt for the week. This is what people vote on when they are posted on Fridays/Saturdays. The other part is a non-anonymous response to a bonus challenge.
Technically the bonus challenge can be very, very short and be very easy to fill.
Um.
Yeah. I don't do anything easy. And since the prompt burrowed into my brain like a parasitic worm, it ended up being a tad bit long.
BUT
It's set in the Loaded March universe, before the boys are called up to the Directory on a mission! If nothing else, doing this summerpornathon thing is helping me with my porn, and it's also making me write LM-related stuff! Can't go wrong with that!
My response on the community is in two comments, or you can check it out in its entirety beneath the cut. It's rated G, so it should be safe to read anywhere!
... meanwhile, in the Loaded March universe...
"Theyllrunoutofbombseventually," Owain said quickly, because the timing between shelling blasts -- unpredictable as they were -- was getting shorter and shorter, and the team needed to talk fast if they wanted to be heard and understood.
Unfortunately, the shelling blasts were also getting closer and closer. They were pinned on all sides, barricaded by a too-shallow foxhole surrounded by sandbags that did little to contain the blast but at least did something, however little, to absorb the teeth-rattling shockwaves. The wall on their westward side didn't look steady; with every bombardment, more crumble and dust rained down on them. Perceval, being the unlucky sod right underneath, was covered by a good few centimetres of powdered brick and mortar.
Unconsciously, Owain shifted his position a bit more to the east. He didn't trust that wall to stay upright past a few more blasts.
"Oi," Merlin muttered, shoving a Kevlar-covered elbow in Owain's ribs. "There isn't enough room..."
He paused. A bomb blasted nearby.
".. for both you and my radio in my lap."
Another mortar went off nearby. Owain caught a glimpse of Arthur's glowering warning to not even think of jumping into Merlin's lap when a chunk of wall was rattled loose and fell on Perceval's hardcap.
"What's the..." Owain paused, waiting for the ka-ch-thunk to fade. "... word from HQ?"
Merlin rolled his eyes. "The usual. Sit tight."
"All right, then," Gwaine said. His mouth moved all the way through the next bombardment, and it wasn't until Owain's ears stopped ringing that he heard the rest of what Gwaine said. "... that time again. I'm taking orders for last meals."
"For my last meal, I'd like to..." Geraint paused, waited for a countdown between blasts, and continued, "... request you shoot the fuckers shelling us. But since you fail with the distance thing..."
"Oi!" Gwaine protested. Owain knew that Gwaine had tried four times, but even if the conditions had been ideal, it was downright impossible to take the shot. It was just too far, even for Gwaine.
"... my grandma's pot roast," Geraint said. Gwaine dug deep into his bag and tossed over an MRE.
"McClarren's fish and chips," Galahad said. Gwaine whipped a silver square of MRE across at Galahad; Galahad flipped it over and read the label. "Great. Beef Stroganoff."
"That's mine," Leon said. Galahad's protest was muffled by the bomb blast.
"Katie's pudding," Kay said. He didn't even bother to look at the label before ripping the MRE open and shoving his spoon in.
"Bangers and mash," Bedivere requested. Gwaine tossed two MREs one after the other; whatever Bohrs wanted for his last meal had been drowned out by an aftershock.
"Pizza. Pizza made properly, not that canteen crap," Pellinor groused.
"I just want a bloody fucking curry," Gareth said. "It can't be that hard to make curry, either, but they muck it up all the same at the mess, don't they?"
"I'll have an MRE," Lucan said, helping himself to a random grab of whatever was in Gwaine's backpack, because, as usual, Lucan had no imagination, and even less by sense of humour, however morbid.
"Steak Wellington, parboiled potatoes, steamed green beans," Lamorak said, because, as usual, he always had to outdo everyone.
Gwaine held up a silver MRE and raised a questioning eyebrow at Owain. "Sweet 'n sour ribs from that place down the road --"
"Peking's Crown?" Geraint asked.
"Green Dragon's Diner?" Galahad asked.
"-- no, that place, the one with the thing?" Owain made a gesture in the air, but was met with blank faces. He shrugged, catching his MRE.
"Gwen's lasagne," Lance said, smiling that stupid besotted smile that made Owain half wish he had someone he was as in love with, and half wish he could smack Lance in the head to make him stop grinning, because Gwen's lasagne was actually quite foul.
"A big, thick Reuben sandwich, with extra sauerkraut, and a dark amber ale," Perceval said, his eyes squinting as the dust rained down on him.
"Oh, that sounds good. I'll go in on that," Gwaine said. "A double helping, then, with chips. You want some, too?"
Perceval reached out for the MRE, snatching it unceremoniously out of Gwaine's hand.
"A nice, thick burger," Arthur said, and Owain smiled, because however much Arthur could be a spoilt prat sometimes, he preferred simple things.
"What about you, Merlin?" Owain asked.
Merlin pulled off the earpiece. "Whut?"
"Last meals. What's your last meal?" Gwaine asked.
"Oh. Um." One bomb, another, then a third, went off in sequence before Merlin answered. "My Mum's brownies. That is, if there's any left?"
Gwaine's fingers tightened around his rucksack, and he put on his most innocent expression -- which wasn't innocent at all. "No? None left at all. Nope. You'll have to make do with..."
He tossed a silver vacuum-sealed bag at Merlin. Merlin scrambled with his radio to catch it, but missed and it slipped into the dirt. Owain picked it up, brushed off the muck, and glanced at the label. "It's the man's last meal, Gwaine, and you're giving him oatmeal?"
"There are no more brownies," Gwaine said again, his tone a flat monotone. He tugged his rucksack closer, trying to hide it.
Everyone stared at the rucksack.
"Bollocks," Arthur said, and as if it were a trigger to something more explosive than the bomb blasts around them, the entire team lunged for Gwaine's pack.
.
Technically the bonus challenge can be very, very short and be very easy to fill.
Um.
Yeah. I don't do anything easy. And since the prompt burrowed into my brain like a parasitic worm, it ended up being a tad bit long.
BUT
It's set in the Loaded March universe, before the boys are called up to the Directory on a mission! If nothing else, doing this summerpornathon thing is helping me with my porn, and it's also making me write LM-related stuff! Can't go wrong with that!
My response on the community is in two comments, or you can check it out in its entirety beneath the cut. It's rated G, so it should be safe to read anywhere!
... meanwhile, in the Loaded March universe...
"Theyllrunoutofbombseventually," Owain said quickly, because the timing between shelling blasts -- unpredictable as they were -- was getting shorter and shorter, and the team needed to talk fast if they wanted to be heard and understood.
Unfortunately, the shelling blasts were also getting closer and closer. They were pinned on all sides, barricaded by a too-shallow foxhole surrounded by sandbags that did little to contain the blast but at least did something, however little, to absorb the teeth-rattling shockwaves. The wall on their westward side didn't look steady; with every bombardment, more crumble and dust rained down on them. Perceval, being the unlucky sod right underneath, was covered by a good few centimetres of powdered brick and mortar.
Unconsciously, Owain shifted his position a bit more to the east. He didn't trust that wall to stay upright past a few more blasts.
"Oi," Merlin muttered, shoving a Kevlar-covered elbow in Owain's ribs. "There isn't enough room..."
He paused. A bomb blasted nearby.
".. for both you and my radio in my lap."
Another mortar went off nearby. Owain caught a glimpse of Arthur's glowering warning to not even think of jumping into Merlin's lap when a chunk of wall was rattled loose and fell on Perceval's hardcap.
"What's the..." Owain paused, waiting for the ka-ch-thunk to fade. "... word from HQ?"
Merlin rolled his eyes. "The usual. Sit tight."
"All right, then," Gwaine said. His mouth moved all the way through the next bombardment, and it wasn't until Owain's ears stopped ringing that he heard the rest of what Gwaine said. "... that time again. I'm taking orders for last meals."
"For my last meal, I'd like to..." Geraint paused, waited for a countdown between blasts, and continued, "... request you shoot the fuckers shelling us. But since you fail with the distance thing..."
"Oi!" Gwaine protested. Owain knew that Gwaine had tried four times, but even if the conditions had been ideal, it was downright impossible to take the shot. It was just too far, even for Gwaine.
"... my grandma's pot roast," Geraint said. Gwaine dug deep into his bag and tossed over an MRE.
"McClarren's fish and chips," Galahad said. Gwaine whipped a silver square of MRE across at Galahad; Galahad flipped it over and read the label. "Great. Beef Stroganoff."
"That's mine," Leon said. Galahad's protest was muffled by the bomb blast.
"Katie's pudding," Kay said. He didn't even bother to look at the label before ripping the MRE open and shoving his spoon in.
"Bangers and mash," Bedivere requested. Gwaine tossed two MREs one after the other; whatever Bohrs wanted for his last meal had been drowned out by an aftershock.
"Pizza. Pizza made properly, not that canteen crap," Pellinor groused.
"I just want a bloody fucking curry," Gareth said. "It can't be that hard to make curry, either, but they muck it up all the same at the mess, don't they?"
"I'll have an MRE," Lucan said, helping himself to a random grab of whatever was in Gwaine's backpack, because, as usual, Lucan had no imagination, and even less by sense of humour, however morbid.
"Steak Wellington, parboiled potatoes, steamed green beans," Lamorak said, because, as usual, he always had to outdo everyone.
Gwaine held up a silver MRE and raised a questioning eyebrow at Owain. "Sweet 'n sour ribs from that place down the road --"
"Peking's Crown?" Geraint asked.
"Green Dragon's Diner?" Galahad asked.
"-- no, that place, the one with the thing?" Owain made a gesture in the air, but was met with blank faces. He shrugged, catching his MRE.
"Gwen's lasagne," Lance said, smiling that stupid besotted smile that made Owain half wish he had someone he was as in love with, and half wish he could smack Lance in the head to make him stop grinning, because Gwen's lasagne was actually quite foul.
"A big, thick Reuben sandwich, with extra sauerkraut, and a dark amber ale," Perceval said, his eyes squinting as the dust rained down on him.
"Oh, that sounds good. I'll go in on that," Gwaine said. "A double helping, then, with chips. You want some, too?"
Perceval reached out for the MRE, snatching it unceremoniously out of Gwaine's hand.
"A nice, thick burger," Arthur said, and Owain smiled, because however much Arthur could be a spoilt prat sometimes, he preferred simple things.
"What about you, Merlin?" Owain asked.
Merlin pulled off the earpiece. "Whut?"
"Last meals. What's your last meal?" Gwaine asked.
"Oh. Um." One bomb, another, then a third, went off in sequence before Merlin answered. "My Mum's brownies. That is, if there's any left?"
Gwaine's fingers tightened around his rucksack, and he put on his most innocent expression -- which wasn't innocent at all. "No? None left at all. Nope. You'll have to make do with..."
He tossed a silver vacuum-sealed bag at Merlin. Merlin scrambled with his radio to catch it, but missed and it slipped into the dirt. Owain picked it up, brushed off the muck, and glanced at the label. "It's the man's last meal, Gwaine, and you're giving him oatmeal?"
"There are no more brownies," Gwaine said again, his tone a flat monotone. He tugged his rucksack closer, trying to hide it.
Everyone stared at the rucksack.
"Bollocks," Arthur said, and as if it were a trigger to something more explosive than the bomb blasts around them, the entire team lunged for Gwaine's pack.
.