FIC: Three character sketches (multi fandom).
With thanks to FridayAngel for beta reading all three. All idiocies are mine.
Disclaimer: The characters, however, are not mine and I make no profit from writing these pieces of fanfiction.
Title: Home
fandom: Smallville
Rating: G. General/Angst. Vignette
Summary: Whitney never got to find out who sent him the copy of The Torch.
Notes: Inspired in part by MollyTM’s 'Shades of Gray'. Takes place during early season 2, but spoilers up till ‘Visage.’
Home: shallowness
The night that Whitney got The Torch, he dreamed of slow dancing with Lana.
He would never find out who sent it to him; there would always be other things to ask his mom on the few times they got to talk and he never remembered to ask when e-mailing Lana either. There was no name, no note, just the latest edition, and he devoured every word, every picture.
Thanks to the weirdness on the front page, the scathing editorial on changes to the policy on students’ use of the science labs and the Crows' results, Whitney was back home. Back sweating in the guys' changing room, waiting for the coach to bust their chops or rile them up. Back outside the school building in that chaotic moment when the bell rang and the majority of Lowell County's yellow buses congregated to set them free. Back in the corridors where the lockers piled up one on another and there was shuffling, not marching; more laughter than orders.
Although the print was black and white, he remembered in color. Familiar names jumped out at him, balancing out the article about the freshmen making a time capsule. Chloe's description of the Talon as the town's java junkies' supplier, Kent's name dotted around. Was he looking after Lana? How much? How?
Whitney dreamed in color again for many nights after he finally folded The Torch up, and set it aside under some photographs in his locker. He never got to read another copy.
- diwedd -
Title: What agents do
Fandom: Jake 2.0
Rating: G.
Genre: Gen.
Summary: Jake's clearance was low, now it's high, really high.
Notes: Vague spoilers for ‘The Ultimate Human Upgrade’.
What agents do: shallowness
There were some things that Jake Foley, IT go-to guy, was never meant to see. Passwords he wasn’t meant to crack, systems he wasn’t meant to analyze, systems he probably wasn’t even meant to know about. But now he can walk through the NSA corridors confident that, whatever clearance his pass gives him, whether or not there’s an alert on that’s leaning to the bad shades of the rainbow, he can still open doors if he needs to.
He’s seen stark terror in experienced agents’ eyes; he’s caused some of it. People he was meant to pass in corridors, knowing from their confident walk that they had Places to Go Briskly to, Really, are people he’s got to see in the latter moments of a countdown. He can confidently say that Kyle Duarte almost sweats then. He’s seen the gang at Operations throw their versions of high-fives after averting things they can never talk about. A couple of times, he’s seen Lou Beckett grin.
Sometimes, Jake tells himself he’s lucky, as his body works with the nanites to engineer another last-second escape. He’s an agent, an asset to his nation, his security clearance high. There’s a lot that Agent Foley - Jake - has seen. It’s a long way from Akron and playing spy games using moves he learnt from TV. But he’s not playing when he reholsters his gun.
FIN
Title: Flawless
Fandom: X-men movieverse (spoilers for X3)
Rating: PG
Genre: Gen. Angst.
Summary: A look at Mystique’s response to the events of X3.
Flawless: shallowness
Raven chooses her clothes carefully. It’s playing with the kind of toys you give to drooling babies, but the wind changed, she got stuck looking like this.
Beauticians tell her that her skin is flawless, she thinks it’s colorless and buys too much make up, shooting them contemptuous looks as she hands over the money. Her eyes will never flash amber again.
She applies the make up and puts on the clothes, controls every effect masterfully, but it means nothing. She got stuck with her mother’s face. She got it lying naked, shivering and whimpering, weaker than when she was birthed. The true control lies in not scratching that face with the nails that grow so glacially that they’d look the same from day to day if she didn’t hide them with polish.
The government flunkies let her loose; they thanked Ms. Darkholme for her information and pardoned Mystique’s crimes. Raven let them see what they wanted to see. She hoards what little power she has left - clothes and knowledge. She supposes it’s rebuilding, in a way. She was never one for staying still too long.
END
Feedback of any stripe is welcomed.
Disclaimer: The characters, however, are not mine and I make no profit from writing these pieces of fanfiction.
Title: Home
fandom: Smallville
Rating: G. General/Angst. Vignette
Summary: Whitney never got to find out who sent him the copy of The Torch.
Notes: Inspired in part by MollyTM’s 'Shades of Gray'. Takes place during early season 2, but spoilers up till ‘Visage.’
Home: shallowness
The night that Whitney got The Torch, he dreamed of slow dancing with Lana.
He would never find out who sent it to him; there would always be other things to ask his mom on the few times they got to talk and he never remembered to ask when e-mailing Lana either. There was no name, no note, just the latest edition, and he devoured every word, every picture.
Thanks to the weirdness on the front page, the scathing editorial on changes to the policy on students’ use of the science labs and the Crows' results, Whitney was back home. Back sweating in the guys' changing room, waiting for the coach to bust their chops or rile them up. Back outside the school building in that chaotic moment when the bell rang and the majority of Lowell County's yellow buses congregated to set them free. Back in the corridors where the lockers piled up one on another and there was shuffling, not marching; more laughter than orders.
Although the print was black and white, he remembered in color. Familiar names jumped out at him, balancing out the article about the freshmen making a time capsule. Chloe's description of the Talon as the town's java junkies' supplier, Kent's name dotted around. Was he looking after Lana? How much? How?
Whitney dreamed in color again for many nights after he finally folded The Torch up, and set it aside under some photographs in his locker. He never got to read another copy.
- diwedd -
Title: What agents do
Fandom: Jake 2.0
Rating: G.
Genre: Gen.
Summary: Jake's clearance was low, now it's high, really high.
Notes: Vague spoilers for ‘The Ultimate Human Upgrade’.
What agents do: shallowness
There were some things that Jake Foley, IT go-to guy, was never meant to see. Passwords he wasn’t meant to crack, systems he wasn’t meant to analyze, systems he probably wasn’t even meant to know about. But now he can walk through the NSA corridors confident that, whatever clearance his pass gives him, whether or not there’s an alert on that’s leaning to the bad shades of the rainbow, he can still open doors if he needs to.
He’s seen stark terror in experienced agents’ eyes; he’s caused some of it. People he was meant to pass in corridors, knowing from their confident walk that they had Places to Go Briskly to, Really, are people he’s got to see in the latter moments of a countdown. He can confidently say that Kyle Duarte almost sweats then. He’s seen the gang at Operations throw their versions of high-fives after averting things they can never talk about. A couple of times, he’s seen Lou Beckett grin.
Sometimes, Jake tells himself he’s lucky, as his body works with the nanites to engineer another last-second escape. He’s an agent, an asset to his nation, his security clearance high. There’s a lot that Agent Foley - Jake - has seen. It’s a long way from Akron and playing spy games using moves he learnt from TV. But he’s not playing when he reholsters his gun.
FIN
Title: Flawless
Fandom: X-men movieverse (spoilers for X3)
Rating: PG
Genre: Gen. Angst.
Summary: A look at Mystique’s response to the events of X3.
Flawless: shallowness
Raven chooses her clothes carefully. It’s playing with the kind of toys you give to drooling babies, but the wind changed, she got stuck looking like this.
Beauticians tell her that her skin is flawless, she thinks it’s colorless and buys too much make up, shooting them contemptuous looks as she hands over the money. Her eyes will never flash amber again.
She applies the make up and puts on the clothes, controls every effect masterfully, but it means nothing. She got stuck with her mother’s face. She got it lying naked, shivering and whimpering, weaker than when she was birthed. The true control lies in not scratching that face with the nails that grow so glacially that they’d look the same from day to day if she didn’t hide them with polish.
The government flunkies let her loose; they thanked Ms. Darkholme for her information and pardoned Mystique’s crimes. Raven let them see what they wanted to see. She hoards what little power she has left - clothes and knowledge. She supposes it’s rebuilding, in a way. She was never one for staying still too long.
END
Feedback of any stripe is welcomed.