Brought to you by the Girl Genius Drabble Generator...
So, a month ago today in girlgenius_lab, sweetpea_grubb posted a link to her newly created Girl Genius Drabble Generator.
None of these are actually drabbles. They are ficlets. Ish.
Carson von Mekkhan celebrates the birthday of Bill Heterodyne.
Something was bothering him about the date.
Carson von Mekkhan wandered out to the gate to sit in the sun, with a small piece of gingerbread to indulge the craving for something sweet, trying to put a finger on why he felt so pensive. It wasn't the anniversary of the attack; that had been two months ago. It wasn't his own anniversary, or that of his wife's death....
The gargoyle looked gloomy too.
Death-days, birth-days, conquests -- no, no, wait. Back up.
That was it. Time was, he'd have been arranging a cake for the young Master's birthday. Bill Heterodyne would be forty-eight today, if he were still around of course.
Carson sighed to himself and munched the last of a gingerbread trilobite, then lit his pipe.
Several minutes later, he got up and headed for the bakery.
Lady Vrin wakes up naked next to Sun Daiyu.
"Vital signs are weak but steady."
She didn't recognize the voice.
"Neural activity is consistent with returning consciousness. I think we have her, Grandfather."
Vrin opened her eyes the tiniest bit and looked out through the lashes, puzzled. The room was dim. She was lying on a bed; she could feel fabric against her back, but nowhere else. A young, serious-looking woman stood beside the bed, and a substantially older man was doing something uncomfortable in the region of her rib cage.
"Excellent," he said. Vrin froze as he looked straight at her eyes. He shouldn't think she could see him -- his kind had to look out of the dark part of their eyes, the 'pupil.' Even the Lady, when she wore such a body.
The Lady.
Vrin.
The Lady had given her a last command. It had shocked her. What was it?
Vrin. Die.
Oh. Yes. Of course....
Her throat and heart seized up, fighting the old man's efforts to force them to keep working. They spasmed a few times, with his attempts to resist the Lady, but of course it was futile.
She heard a thump and wondered if his fist had slammed onto the mattress or onto her. She hadn't felt it. In the last instant, she heard him snap, "Not again!"
It might have been an illusion, but for a moment, she perceived nothingness.
Then there was simply nothing.
Castle Heterodyne donates their blood to save a horde of revenants.
"But surely people would be willing to help!" Agatha's voice echoed in the hallway.
"Maybe some of them," Gil said, ducking under a tapestry and eyeing the sword-blade serving as a curtain rod with brief interest. "From what I've seen so far, you might have more trouble getting people from Mechanicsburg to stop. But that's for you. Revenants creep most people out, you know, and there's a good reason for that! And most of them aren't going to have uncontaminated relatives, so you can't count on family feeling."
"Nobility of purpose?" Agatha suggested; he just looked at her. "Freedom? Hating the Other? Hating the wasps? Money?"
"Any of those might get you a few...." He sighed. "That we've got a way to dissolve an integrated wasp out of somebody is great. It's just that blood's one of the trickiest ingredients, especially if it has to be the real thing."
"And I don't want this to actually hurt anybody, so I've got to be careful with the few willing donors...."
"My Lady," the Castle said in tones of suppressed eagerness, "if I may interrupt--?"
"You already did," Agatha said. "You might as well keep it up."
"What about unwilling donors?"
"The point is I don't want unwilling donors!"
"Yes, my lady, but they're not using it anymore...."
Agatha paused, looking up at the ceiling suspiciously. "It?"
"Of course.... If you'll simply take the stairs behind the next door to your left, I'll show you to the storeroom."
"But there aren't any--" Agatha began, but indeed, when she opened the next door to the left, a narrow stone staircase opened up at her toes. "Riiiight. So, just whose blood are we talking about here?"
"Oh, your ancestors had many guests," the Castle said. "Very hospitable when they felt like it. And, of course, several of them left something of themselves behind as well." It chuckled. "I have samples preserved across several centuries -- I'm afraid I lost some early ones during, ahem, extensive remodeling, but after that I improved the design. Also, there's a recent selection from the work details, though the labeling may be a bit poor. And of course those small vials your lady mother brought in."
Agatha stepped through the door, feeling cold nip at her face, and blew out a foggy breath as she surveyed the array of... of storage tanks in dismay. She peered at one of the "small vials" carefully arrayed in racks. It actually looked like a cross between a slaver wasp and a mosquito, frozen in place, with an almost invisibly thin proboscis and an abdomen so distended that red could be seen through its walls.
"Unwilling donors, huh?" she said at last.
"I'm sorry the collection is not comprehensive, my lady."
"No, I, uh... isn't it all dried up by now?"
"I believe my preservation equipment is better than that."
Agatha wandered around reading labels for a while before fetching up against Gil in a similar progress through the room. "Well," she said, "I'm disturbed by my ancestors all over again, but let's see if it works."
None of these are actually drabbles. They are ficlets. Ish.
Carson von Mekkhan celebrates the birthday of Bill Heterodyne.
Something was bothering him about the date.
Carson von Mekkhan wandered out to the gate to sit in the sun, with a small piece of gingerbread to indulge the craving for something sweet, trying to put a finger on why he felt so pensive. It wasn't the anniversary of the attack; that had been two months ago. It wasn't his own anniversary, or that of his wife's death....
The gargoyle looked gloomy too.
Death-days, birth-days, conquests -- no, no, wait. Back up.
That was it. Time was, he'd have been arranging a cake for the young Master's birthday. Bill Heterodyne would be forty-eight today, if he were still around of course.
Carson sighed to himself and munched the last of a gingerbread trilobite, then lit his pipe.
Several minutes later, he got up and headed for the bakery.
Lady Vrin wakes up naked next to Sun Daiyu.
"Vital signs are weak but steady."
She didn't recognize the voice.
"Neural activity is consistent with returning consciousness. I think we have her, Grandfather."
Vrin opened her eyes the tiniest bit and looked out through the lashes, puzzled. The room was dim. She was lying on a bed; she could feel fabric against her back, but nowhere else. A young, serious-looking woman stood beside the bed, and a substantially older man was doing something uncomfortable in the region of her rib cage.
"Excellent," he said. Vrin froze as he looked straight at her eyes. He shouldn't think she could see him -- his kind had to look out of the dark part of their eyes, the 'pupil.' Even the Lady, when she wore such a body.
The Lady.
Vrin.
The Lady had given her a last command. It had shocked her. What was it?
Vrin. Die.
Oh. Yes. Of course....
Her throat and heart seized up, fighting the old man's efforts to force them to keep working. They spasmed a few times, with his attempts to resist the Lady, but of course it was futile.
She heard a thump and wondered if his fist had slammed onto the mattress or onto her. She hadn't felt it. In the last instant, she heard him snap, "Not again!"
It might have been an illusion, but for a moment, she perceived nothingness.
Then there was simply nothing.
Castle Heterodyne donates their blood to save a horde of revenants.
"But surely people would be willing to help!" Agatha's voice echoed in the hallway.
"Maybe some of them," Gil said, ducking under a tapestry and eyeing the sword-blade serving as a curtain rod with brief interest. "From what I've seen so far, you might have more trouble getting people from Mechanicsburg to stop. But that's for you. Revenants creep most people out, you know, and there's a good reason for that! And most of them aren't going to have uncontaminated relatives, so you can't count on family feeling."
"Nobility of purpose?" Agatha suggested; he just looked at her. "Freedom? Hating the Other? Hating the wasps? Money?"
"Any of those might get you a few...." He sighed. "That we've got a way to dissolve an integrated wasp out of somebody is great. It's just that blood's one of the trickiest ingredients, especially if it has to be the real thing."
"And I don't want this to actually hurt anybody, so I've got to be careful with the few willing donors...."
"My Lady," the Castle said in tones of suppressed eagerness, "if I may interrupt--?"
"You already did," Agatha said. "You might as well keep it up."
"What about unwilling donors?"
"The point is I don't want unwilling donors!"
"Yes, my lady, but they're not using it anymore...."
Agatha paused, looking up at the ceiling suspiciously. "It?"
"Of course.... If you'll simply take the stairs behind the next door to your left, I'll show you to the storeroom."
"But there aren't any--" Agatha began, but indeed, when she opened the next door to the left, a narrow stone staircase opened up at her toes. "Riiiight. So, just whose blood are we talking about here?"
"Oh, your ancestors had many guests," the Castle said. "Very hospitable when they felt like it. And, of course, several of them left something of themselves behind as well." It chuckled. "I have samples preserved across several centuries -- I'm afraid I lost some early ones during, ahem, extensive remodeling, but after that I improved the design. Also, there's a recent selection from the work details, though the labeling may be a bit poor. And of course those small vials your lady mother brought in."
Agatha stepped through the door, feeling cold nip at her face, and blew out a foggy breath as she surveyed the array of... of storage tanks in dismay. She peered at one of the "small vials" carefully arrayed in racks. It actually looked like a cross between a slaver wasp and a mosquito, frozen in place, with an almost invisibly thin proboscis and an abdomen so distended that red could be seen through its walls.
"Unwilling donors, huh?" she said at last.
"I'm sorry the collection is not comprehensive, my lady."
"No, I, uh... isn't it all dried up by now?"
"I believe my preservation equipment is better than that."
Agatha wandered around reading labels for a while before fetching up against Gil in a similar progress through the room. "Well," she said, "I'm disturbed by my ancestors all over again, but let's see if it works."