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no_takebacksMorning ladies and fanfolks :D (Well, it's almost afternoon here) I am posting early for two reasons - 1) I am going out. and 2) MOAR TIME FOR FICTIONS!!! which is always a good thing.
This is my final DPP this week and it is, indeed, yes, it is, a FIC MEME. An IN CANON fic meme inspired by some of the comments from the week's DPP discussions, and some interesting ideas from yesterday's missing scenes wishes.
The rules are simple and few:
1) Post prompts!!
2) FILL prompts!!
3) All fills MUST be wholly supported by canon - you CANNOT CHANGE THE OUTCOME OF THE SHOW IN ANY WAY. If you do you will be PUNISHED! (I'm not quite sure how, but there will be frosty looks and strongly worded letters involved I can tell you that much for sure)
4) Have fun!!!!
5) BE AWESOME!!!
And it's as simple as that. Obviously it would be nice if you could fill a prompt for every one you post, but I'm not going to impose it as a rule or anything because I feel like it discourages people from prompting, and we like prompts, so prompt freely and with abandon! Reckless Abandon (which is the title of an erotica novel my mother owned when I was young which I read when I was far too young and didn't understand AT ALL) if you so choose.
HAPPY WEEKEND EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!! (tiny exclamation marks for giant text makes me unusually happy) I am officially passing the DPP wheel over to the next lunatic.
It's been real, y'all
<3
This is my final DPP this week and it is, indeed, yes, it is, a FIC MEME. An IN CANON fic meme inspired by some of the comments from the week's DPP discussions, and some interesting ideas from yesterday's missing scenes wishes.
The rules are simple and few:
1) Post prompts!!
2) FILL prompts!!
3) All fills MUST be wholly supported by canon - you CANNOT CHANGE THE OUTCOME OF THE SHOW IN ANY WAY. If you do you will be PUNISHED! (I'm not quite sure how, but there will be frosty looks and strongly worded letters involved I can tell you that much for sure)
4) Have fun!!!!
5) BE AWESOME!!!
And it's as simple as that. Obviously it would be nice if you could fill a prompt for every one you post, but I'm not going to impose it as a rule or anything because I feel like it discourages people from prompting, and we like prompts, so prompt freely and with abandon! Reckless Abandon (which is the title of an erotica novel my mother owned when I was young which I read when I was far too young and didn't understand AT ALL) if you so choose.
HAPPY WEEKEND EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!! (tiny exclamation marks for giant text makes me unusually happy) I am officially passing the DPP wheel over to the next lunatic.
It's been real, y'all
<3
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First prompt!!!!
Date: 2011-07-02 10:58 am (UTC)My prompt:
Resurrection ship, military corner folds, she's got a bottle of tequila, a bottle of gin, and if I bring a little music I can fit right in
Because I'm feeling abstract today.
Now you go.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 12:50 pm (UTC)Oh well, here is my prompt: prank.
Re: First prompt!!!!
Date: 2011-07-02 09:58 pm (UTC)Enjoy ;)
---
That's just it, Kara. I didn't want to make it back alive.
Kara sat quietly on the edge of Lee's bunk for what seemed an age after the admission, at a complete loss for words. Everything she could think of to say was trite and clichéd. In the end she gave up on words and went straight for her locker instead.
The collection of bottles inside weren't what they claimed to be. There was no Picon Whisky in those bottles any more, none of that Gemenese Gin that had once been so popular among a certain subset of Galactica's officers, though as an exception to the rule she was fairly sure that somewhere at the back was the dregs of some Tequila from Scorpia, the final material link with that holiday she'd taken trekking through the jungles not long before the fall.
Those bottles labelled with long since disappeared brands from dead worlds now held various amounts of varying vintages of the Chief's best moonshine and Kara felt that tonight what Lee needed more than whatever unoriginal platitudes she could come up with was to get staggeringly drunk.
Thankful that every bunk had their curtains open revealing neat, uniform military corners, proving that they really were alone she barred the door, poured out two glasses of one of the better vintages of the rotgut that passed for good alcohol these days and prepared for a long night. At least they had this. When words couldn't fix what was broken, there was at least companionable drinking. It was like their own kind of music.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 10:00 pm (UTC)Re: First prompt!!!!
Date: 2011-07-02 11:58 pm (UTC)I love that your solution to how Kara reacted is that she didn't say anything, it seems like it could easily have gone down this way from the way they talk about it afterwards, and companionable drinking is always good times.
Lovely fill, thank you :D
I have to go write something now. I seem to have neglected the fact that it's 4th July weekend, so I doubt my little fic meme is gonna get much play, the least I can do is try to fill the prompts that ARE here!
Filled!
Date: 2011-07-03 12:40 am (UTC)You think you know, what you are, what's to come
Every week, once a week, they take a Raptor shuttle down to the planet.
"Can you believe this place?" Kara asks from the cockpit as he does post-flight checks and shuts down the consoles, and when he looks up at her she's squinting out into the bright sunlight of New Caprica, taking stock of their surroundings.
"What do you mean?" He asks, unzipping his flight suit and peeling it down to his waist, it's hot down here, and those things do not breathe.
"I mean look at it!" She exclaims, gesticulating wildly out into the mire, he chuckles a little and comes to join her in the doorway. "Look at all these people, wandering about down here like they're actually going to make something out of this hell-hole. I mean, have you ever seen a place more bleak and uninviting than this?"
She hops down onto the dusty ground, scuffing her feet in the dirt like the planet deserved a good kicking. He jumps down after her and nudges her with his shoulder.
"I don't know," he says, giving a cursory glance around the terrain and then turning back to her with a grin. "The inside of Hotdog's rack is pretty uninviting."
She laughs, her eyes sparkling in the bright sunshine. He's missed this, this ease with her, missed feeling like they understand each other. He's felt off-kilter ever since the day Admiral Cain met her demise, the day he almost met his, and she has been aloof ever since she returned from Caprica the second time, a brand new toy in tow.
They've been distant, estranged almost, but they're getting there, getting back. He's missed her.
"Nah," she laughs, scrunching up her nose, "I'd take a night in Hotdog's rack over a night in this dustbowl any day."
They were walking now, the sun beating down on them strong and unrelenting, the fine dust from the ground they were disturbing flying up into the air in front of them.
"I mean, seriously," she pauses to cough and brush her hair, growing longer by the day, out of her face, "what could possibly induce a person to want to actually move down here?" She coughs again, brushes his hand away when he brings it up to pat her back.
"It's not so bad," he starts when she recovers, and laughs at the glare she throws him as they start walking again, "Honestly, I understand the appeal. Sunlight on your face, ground beneath your feet, and a place to lay some roots, start your life over. If my circumstances were different, I would probably be thinking about the same thing."
"You and Dee not quite ready to shack up yet?" Her voice is quiet, and when he glances casually over at her she is concentrating on her feet. He resents the way she asks him like it hurts her to think about, like she's not frakking Samuel T. Anders in every available nook and cranny on board Galactica and at each and every single chance she gets.
He stays silent, and doesn't look at her when she finally raises her face. She nods a little bit and presses her lips together, and they move on, their silent pact not to talk about it beyond acknowledgement of facts still firmly in tact.
"Well," she sighs finally, when they're approaching the centre of the 'town' Baltar has under construction, a sprawling mass of tents and canopies and half-built structures, "you may be feeling the call of domestic bliss on a shiny new planet, Lee, but there aint no way in Hades you will ever see me trade in my tags for a camp-bed in a sand-box."
They reach their destination, coming to a stop in front of the school tent The President - Laura he corrects in his head - has set up. She ducks her head and slips underneath the thick fabric of the opening tent-flap, and he waits for a moment before following her in, taking a moment to smile at the thought that, no matter what happens with them, where they end up, at least she's not going anywhere any time soon.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-03 12:42 am (UTC)...I'm working on the prompt.
Filled :) 1/2
Date: 2011-07-03 01:39 am (UTC)when the well runs dry
He's had too much to drink, of that he's absolutely certain. Kara's poorly stifled giggles are tickling the inside of his ear, her breath warm on the side of his face. She smells like too much ambrosia covered up with the bitter stench of whatever it is that passes for coffee these days. She's farther gone than he is.
The thing about Kara is that she can hold her drink. She can drink and drink and stay standing and not throw up, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't get wasted. Around about her fourth drink she starts to flush, her pale skin assuming blotchy patches of red, and her smiles get more sincere and more liberally applied.
Around her sixth drink her tongue starts to loosen, her jokes get just a little less humourous, her wit stinging with just a little more force, and he starts to keep track of exactly who is in the room, how much he needs to keep her from saying.
Around her eighth drink she starts to have lapses in judgement, starts thinking that doing things like this is a good idea. It's the eight plus drinks nights that come with the wildest stories, the trips to the brig, the bruises that she can't explain, doesn't notice until the morning.
Tonight she's had at least twelve, he stopped counting hers around his seventh, he figures that he can't help her now anyway if she gets herself into trouble, and numbers are confusing. Whatever.
They've had a lot to drink, and she's giggling like a child, right up in his face, the whole length of her body pressed into his side, and he's standing in the middle of the XO's quarters concentrating very hard on not spilling as he transfers the whiskey from Tigh's last bottle into Kara's flask.
When he's done he passes her the flask, and maybe he watches her lips as they wrap around the neck, she takes a swig and a drop runs down her chin. He lifts his thumb to her face without even thinking about it, swipes at the liquid. Their eyes lock for a moment, frozen in time, and then she blinks and he looks away. They are a series of moments locked from the inside, he is far more drunk than he ought to be.
If you're wondering what number of drinks he needs to have to make him start losing his judgement, the answer is five, and a Kara Thrace chaser.
Filled :) 2/2
Date: 2011-07-03 01:39 am (UTC)She grins and waggles her eyebrows at him as she lifts the water bottle. She goes to pour it herself, knocking it clumsily into the now empty whiskey bottle, and he pries it from her gently before they end up flooding Saul's office.
He hands her the whiskey bottle to hold, and it sways in her hands, she's laughing too much, she's farther gone than he is. He lays one hand over hers where she's clutching the bottle, steadying it between them and raising the water bottle to the neck of the other. He tips, she wavers, and the water spills down her leg.
"Frak." He mutters. Kara giggles and swipes at her leg.
"Klutz" she calls him, and he pushes at her half-heartedly.
She loses her balance and stops herself from falling backwards off the desk by grabbing onto his hand, pulling herself back towards him. She over-compensates and they wind up too close, their noses close enough to brush if he moved a fraction to the right. Her eyes are boring into his, and he suddenly can't remember a single thing that he was doing.
She licks her lips, his eyes follow her tongue where it slips along her skin.
If you're wondering how many drinks he has to have before he starts thinking about what it would be like to kiss her in more detail than is healthy, the answer is three and a half. He's long past healthy.
Her gaze flickers to his lips, and then back to his, she's breathing heavy and a little quicker than usual.
He leans in, she smiles, their noses do brush.
"Colonol Tigh!" A voice from outside the door, Duck's greeting meant to warn them of his presence, "sir, I believe Commander Adama was looking for you sir, in CIC."
There is a muttered response from the XO and the sound of retreating footsteps. Lee breathes a sigh of relief, and looks back at Kara. She's flushed, and fiddling with her thumb ring, and she's moved back away from him.
She raises the empty bottle once more and he takes her meaning. They should really get this done and get out of there before Saul figures out what's going on.
They're in the rec-room when the ruccus starts, they can hear the exact moment that Tigh figures out that his medicine is nothing more than a placebo, and she grins at him from across the table.
He raises his glass in a cheers, they toast silently to the benevolent XO.
He doesn't know what number he is on.
Prompty prompt prompts
Date: 2011-07-03 01:44 am (UTC)1) There's no place like home
2) Don't think that I can take another empty moment
Don't think that I can fake another hollow smile
Re: First prompt!!!!
Date: 2011-07-03 02:27 am (UTC)Thanks for writing!
cheers.
--Lex
Re: Filled!
Date: 2011-07-03 03:33 am (UTC)Re: Filled :) 2/2
Date: 2011-07-03 03:39 am (UTC)Re: First prompt!!!!
Date: 2011-07-03 03:42 am (UTC)No Place Like Home
Date: 2011-07-03 04:53 am (UTC)There’s no place like home.
The old phrase is the first thing that comes to mind when Kara sets the stolen raider down on the surface of Caprica and steps out to see the remains of the place she once called home. She snorts at the thought. “No one thought about the Cylons coming back and turning ‘home’ into a nuclear wasteland when they made that up, did they?”
She had been sent back home, back to Caprica, on what was practically a suicide mission to retrieve the Arrow of Apollo for President Roslin. Now, as she moves to enter the Delphi Museum, she looks up at the yellowed sky caused by the radiation from the Cylons’ nuclear strike on the colonies, and realizes that this nuked shell of a planet is not ‘home’ anymore. There were no signs of life, just destruction. Ruins of buildings hinting that this place had once been home, but not anymore. After the annihilation of the colonies, the Colonials were left with no home, forced to always be on the run, constantly fighting for their lives. No one had a home anymore, certainly not Caprica. She approaches the display case that holds the artifact she jumped back for, keeping the adage in her head so she doesn’t focus on the destruction that surrounds her.
As Kara spends more time on the Cylon-infested planet, the remembered saying becomes less and less fitting for the place she sees. Without a doubt, she knows she can’t consider this Caprica home, not after seeing the affects of the nuclear holocaust. The empty buildings and streets. The Cylons. The Resistance. The farms, with women hooked up to machines and being forced to carry human-cylon hybrids. Nothing about this place is home.
But when she makes her way back to the fleet and feels Lee’s arms, tight, around her on the Astral Queen, she sees that while Caprica might be an uninhabitable wasteland that was not home to anyone, Galactica and the Adamas have become her home and family. And although life on Galactica, always on the run from the Cylons and searching for a place to settle down, was extremely far from easy and perfect, when compared to a place like Caprica, there was no place like home.
Re: First prompt!!!!
Date: 2011-07-03 07:46 am (UTC)Yeah, lizzie...if only it lead to lusty business...
Re: Filled :) 2/2
Date: 2011-07-03 07:53 am (UTC)Re: Filled!
Date: 2011-07-03 07:54 am (UTC)Re: No Place Like Home
Date: 2011-07-03 07:56 am (UTC)You don't gotz no promptz? Iz a meme yo! :D
no subject
Date: 2011-07-03 04:49 pm (UTC)~ laugh
~ How come the only way to know how high you get me, is to see how far I fall?
Re: No Place Like Home
Date: 2011-07-03 04:57 pm (UTC)Re: Filled :) 2/2
Date: 2011-07-03 05:32 pm (UTC)I'm going to use an odd word to describe this story... This has the 'canter' of an older fandom fic, but with the pacing (of angst) that the newer ones have. I love it for this. Because as much as there is light and humour, there's all the dark secrets there too, and THAT is what makes me want to read more.
Random: Why aren't you writing an epic, girl? Where is your 100K fic? *taps foot* And no, I'm not joking in the least.
Bravo! K :>D
Re: Filled :) 2/2
Date: 2011-07-03 06:09 pm (UTC)I guess that strange mixture is what comes of writing early season pilots in full knowledge of the whole story, like going back and watching it knowing what's going to happen, you can ascribe meaning to situations where before they were just there. I can't, however, claim that I did it on purpose...this was kind of a twenty minute job without much analysis given, so happy circumstance rather than any kind of skill made it this way, but I'm glad you liked it!
I am writing a semi-epic - I don't think I'll ever write a Kag-length epic, I just don't have that kind of narrative foresight or the ability to tell a really plot based story, I'm not that good.
But I am currently writing probably the longest thing I will ever have written (once it is wrote), it's being sidelined while i work on my Presents assignment, which is also turning out mildly epic. But my epic, my baby, is currently at about 12K and it's maybe a fifth done, maybe a bit more than that, it's a very confused thing that has yet to really define itself and I'm kind of just writing it until it becomes whatever it's going to become. You'll see it one day, I promise.
*hugs you way loads for being all pushy*
<3
no subject
Date: 2011-07-03 07:16 pm (UTC)reporting for duty, sir
under the wing
returning the favor
restless
MOAR PROMPTS!!
Date: 2011-07-03 08:07 pm (UTC)- Back to Black
- Cantankerous
- Poor circulation
- aftermath
GOGOGOGOGO!!!!