I'm
atomic89 and I'm gonna be hosting here for the next few days. Hi!
To start out the week I'm gonna go got a fairly simple theme Canon Ships, because the need love as well. The line between a canon ship and a ship that has a canon basis is a very thin one, so I'm not gonna be too picky
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"Can't sleep? The gimme back the pillow if you'll be so nice," the future captain drawls, just out of sleep. She throws it back down and lands on the floor on the balls of her feet and decides to go and get a breath of fresh air.
On the way outside - Hawaii shirt, moustache, bright eyes - he almost rushes into her. Like a whirlwind.
"Sorry. Do I bother you?" he asks, and she thinks that must be obvious from the sneer on her face. All she can do is not slap the ridiculous dinosaur figure he carries out of his hand.
"Yes," she says. "You bother me. Out of my way."
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"To the death."
They plunge into battle together, hand-in-hand and side-by-side, but the tides of fighting sweep them apart before they can blink, and then it is each of them looking to their own safety. Dodge, jump, slash, block, don't blink, don't fall, survive. Sometimes they spot each other not so far away and draw strength from that. Dogde, jump, attack, duck, stab and slash. It is brutal business. Both emerge wounded and bloodied but alive, and though they both bear scars, that only makes their bodies the more exciting for the other later on. One of Suki's looks almost like a star, and one of Sokka's, on his shoulder, could be an upside down smiling face.
None sees any of their scars beneath the formal robes when they join hands at last. Aang ties the ribbon around their wrists.
"To the death."
"To the death."
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SPOILERS FOR EPITAPH ONE
It’s been very quiet recently. Whiskey hasn’t seen any of the others for a long time, and she hasn’t swum or painted or had a treatment for even longer.
These days she just walks, or stands looking at things, or sleeps.
She sleeps a lot, these days.
She’s walking around the room that used to be where they exercised, drifting along slowly, when she glimpses something in the shadows, and hears a voice.”
“Hello, Whiskey.”
She freezes on the spot, eyes wide, knowing instantly who it is. The one… the one who… slowly she reaches up and touches her face, tracing the lines of scars that are no longer visible.
“Hey, ain’t you gonna say hello? An’ here I am bein’ all polite to ya… c’mon, Crystal, play along…”
The voice sounds different, but the same. He called her Crystal.
“My name is Whiskey.”
“Huh? No, you’re Crys- oh, yes, I know who you are.” The voice changes again, sounds like the one who… the one whose name she can’t think ( ... )
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