Fluffy Promptables
Jun. 24th, 2014 12:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scribblemynameWe're prompting fluffy, lighthearted stuff of any variety, no canon/pairing/character information required, though permitted.
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Re: Fic: My Couch is Always Open, Part 3
Date: 2014-07-14 10:20 pm (UTC)These are probably bad ideas, but...
"Today is not a day to be fierce," Kilter to Shift.
And...
JUstus had named her guardian, but who guarded the guardian?
Re: Fic: My Couch is Always Open, Part 3
Date: 2014-07-15 03:46 pm (UTC)Loving the music, btw. Thank you again!
Re: Fic: My Couch is Always Open, Part 3
Date: 2014-07-15 04:58 pm (UTC)You're welcome. :)
Ficlet: Blurring the Lines
Date: 2014-07-22 05:19 pm (UTC)“Blurring doesn’t actually stop all injury,” Kilter’s voice interjected dryly, the noise starting up a pounding in her head. “It just stops you from dying.”
Shift groaned and tried to tense up enough to move or stand and had to clench her teeth against the pain. Kilter was right to a point: shifting to a blur of molecules was a valuable way to stay uninjured in a fight or from a bullet, but it didn’t actually resolve the issue of being driven through like a puddle. Thankfully, she had long ago mastered pulling herself back together, but it was still more than a little traumatic.
“Hey. Relax.” Kilter pressed her down gently by one shoulder. His gaze searched hers. They had been on opposite sides of conviction so many times over the years, but when all was said and done, they shared a mother figure, a daughter, and a team between them. It meant something when he told her, “You don’t have to be fierce. I’ll stand watch.”
She forced herself to let go, to let her muscles relax fully, and let herself go limp against the couch. Her eyelids fluttered shut. “Okay,” she said softly.
If he softened just a little, for her, neither of them mentioned that she liked it.
Re: Ficlet: Blurring the Lines
Date: 2014-07-22 08:00 pm (UTC)Re: Ficlet: Blurring the Lines
Date: 2014-07-22 08:04 pm (UTC)Re: Ficlet: Blurring the Lines
Date: 2014-07-22 08:14 pm (UTC)The Frequently Asked Questions for Brittany Rachelle Winslow, Part 1
Date: 2014-07-22 07:16 pm (UTC)“So what’s your name?” the skinny informant asked in that overly casual tone that meant he was tense nd nervous. His eyes flitted back and forth like he was high on coffee, and he shoved his hands deep in his pockets.
The things Rachelle did and the people she put up with to help people she’d never mastered saying ‘no’ to. Killinger owed her for this one.
Rachelle leaned back against the grimy, brick wall of the alleyway, crossed her arms, and breathed out a clipped laugh. “Which one?”
2
“How do you know so much about forensics?” the detective asked suspciously. “You’re awful young for this work.”
Rachelle shoved past him into the rundown apartment. She’d stripped down to a blue tank top and tied her overshirt around her waist. The backwash of filthy genetic drift—bacteria, viruses, sick people, animals…—slapped against her exposed skin like a tidal wave, and her body got to work processing it. She was looking for something, well, someone.
“Where are you, Justus?” she muttered to herself. She hated that he’d stayed in the business, become a cop, and then gotten himself tied up in a nasty case involving organized crime and disappeared.
“Well?” the detective prodded again. She hadn’t bothered to get his name.
“Shut up,” Rachelle snapped at last, patience and special ability worn thin. She was hauling in too many new genetic entries, sorting and searching for anything that matched her teammate. She wasn’t known for being nice on a good day, and this wasn’t that.
She ignored the detective’s hard frown and stepped forward into the apartment, getting close to every surface. She’d been genetically modified by a military program as a child and been a walking, talking forensics lab ever since. It wasn’t something she was about to tell this guy, not even for Justus.
And there.
3
“So how long you been in the business?” Detective Cole asked politely.
Rachelle didn’t often breeze through Riving. When she did, she stopped by the the city’s Special Unit at police headquarters and waited for Justus to appear out of whatever business he’d buried himself in.
She shrugged. She wasn’t thirty years old yet, and the answer that she’d been working forensics, law enforcement, and covert ops for two decades would raise more questions than she was willing to field.
“I’m not here on business,” she said, making herself be nice because Cole belonged to Justus, and that’s what team members did for each other. “I’m just here to deliver the mail.”
It was a favor to her brother. She hadn’t intended on passing through this city at all.
She glimpsed Justus coming up the stairs in the hallway just visible from the back of the room, a box of evidence in his hands. Rachelle saw something flicker in his eyes and she wondered if Meld had decided Justus just needed her around.
She sighed and resigned herself to delaying her flight by another day.
The Frequently Asked Questions for Brittany Rachelle Winslow, Part 2
Date: 2014-07-22 07:17 pm (UTC)“You in love with him?” Kismet asked suddenly, fingers arrested on the nail brush.
She was hanging over the back of the couch, ponytail hanging down messily, and until five minutes ago, she’d been painting her nails and chatting breezily on her new life and the new guy she had in it. Then, she’d switched topics to Justus and promptly gotten under Rachelle’s skin. As much as Rachelle loved Kismet, it was only friendship and their team relationship that made her stay when the prodding got too annoying.
“I don’t do in love,” Rachelle reminded her sharply. It’s not like Kismet wasn’t aware that Rachelle was eminently practical, and life had made romance very impractical for both of them.
Kismet snorted derision as if that didn’t matter at all. “Semantics.” She swiped a last coat of shiny blue across her thumbnail. “Do you love him?”
Rachelle was about to retort, then paused as she stumbled over the difference.
She stared at Kismet. Kismet stared back. Rachelle leaned back with a sigh and held out her hand for the nail polish.
5
“You ever think about your real family?” Heather asked, a soft, wistful tone in her voice.
Formerly known as Surge, Heather had been an operative from another team in the same program and had invited Rachelle to co-run the computer consulting business she’d started after the Thorn Rebellion had ended that program. The two were holed up at Heather’s house in the spacious, book-lined home office at the back.
Rachelle downed the last of her coffee and tossed the cup in the trash can. “The team is my real family. My birth father became a mean alcoholic when they realized I wasn’t coming back.”
Heather looked up startled. “You have met them?”
“Sure.” Rachelle shrugged. “My mother’s sweet, but she puts up with too much abuse. I only see her when I can stand it and he’s not there.”
She didn’t tell Heather why she couldn’t stand it. After years of being property of the Thorn Republic government and taking abuse she shouldn’t have because she couldn’t say ‘no’ and live, Rachelle had little tolerance for watching her mother act like property and take abuse and never walk away though nothing held her there at all besides a broken marriage, not when Rachelle couldn’t help, only be there for her mother, as if that somehow made it better. It was always a relief to walk out, forget the relationship a little while longer, and get back to her team or her apartment.
“I think about my real family all the time.”
6
“Does anyone ever take care of you?” the doctor asked as she stared in dumbfounded horror at the predictably bad test results.
Rachelle leaned back on the hospital bed and focused on breathing evenly as pain spiked through her vascular system for processing genetic material. She was the Database, a storage system running out of space. She had never told her team, letting them figure it out for themselves, but it had always been inevitable. The genetic modifications that let her absorb genetic material from her environment hadn’t come with an off-switch. Her special ability was terminal.
She stared at the ceiling and thought of all the times she’d been in too much pain or when her ability went haywire. She thought of Sear making coffee just the right way so it helped accelerate her body’s ability to cycle. She thought of Meld pouring his life into hers and allowing her to heal. It hurt him to do it—every single time. She thought of Shift keeping her unstable genetics away, running errands, and procuring whatever medical or food supplies would help. She thought of Justus rubbing her back and arms to help her circulation. She thought of the rest of her team and how each one would risk anything for her, give anything for her.
She was a team member. That was what team members did.
Rachelle breathed out one short laugh and retorted, “Save your pity for someone who needs it.”
She had family. Real family.
Re: The Frequently Asked Questions for Brittany Rachelle Winslow, Part 2
Date: 2014-07-22 08:10 pm (UTC)Re: The Frequently Asked Questions for Brittany Rachelle Winslow, Part 2
Date: 2014-07-22 08:12 pm (UTC)Re: The Frequently Asked Questions for Brittany Rachelle Winslow, Part 2
Date: 2014-07-22 08:16 pm (UTC)