I'm babbly today, evidently
Jan. 16th, 2012 07:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bodldopsLast seen on ceitfianna's journal:
Comment with a couple of characters and a song and I will drabble for you.
Hit me!
ceitfianna's journal:Comment with a couple of characters and a song and I will drabble for you.
Hit me!
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-17 03:29 am (UTC)I am requesting Bones + Olga and this song.
>:DDD?
I have to burn your kingdom down (Olya/Bones, Spock POV)
Date: 2012-01-17 04:29 am (UTC)Evidently he was wrong. He was wrong, because now he was seeing things that could not be real. Two women, one willow-thin and oddly aristrocratic, the other bright and almost feral, shimmered into existence behind the creatures that held them captive. Never mind there was no way to use transporter technology this far under the planet's surface, he could state as fact these two were not part of the crew, and no other Earth-origin ships were this far out in space.
His hypothesis was confirmed moments later. With a shout of something that sounded like old-Earth Russian to his ears the smaller one flung her hands out, timed perfectly as the prison guards simulateously collapsed. The more angry-bright one suddenly smiled an uncomforting smile and disappeared again.
And then there was a tiger wreaking carnage. He sighed, wondering how long it would be before the damage done to him started shutting down body systems. He only hoped someone would rescue them before then - he never did manage to tell anyone, about the rites of his people...
With a detached interest he watched the lithe aristocrat pick her way through the remains of bodies (he wished he could see reality, this illusion-state was unacceptable) towards them, her wide grey eyes serious and laser-focused. Curiously, she bypassed the captain, stopping in front of McCoy instead. That he couldn't understand - if his brain went haywire, he'd expect he'd place any interested women with the captain. But no, she had her hand cupped to his cheek, and when he didn't respond, she kissed him, like an odd reversal of the human fairy tales his mother used to tell him when he was young. The feral young girl was back for a moment, laughing something in that old-Russian he almost could recognize (why Russian? Was Chekov trying to contact them?) before disappearing again with a yelp.
Surprisingly, the doctor had roused (or not so surprisingly, in the stories, a kiss always worked - why not now, in his mind's crazed death throes?) and was muttering something too soft to hear under the tiger's snarls - something like sorry, something like confusion.
But his sight was dimming, and he realized, hazily, that it was 34.9 minutes since he made his last estimation. At least, at the very least, he had the satisfaction of being nearly correct as he slipped into the dark.
He woke to the familiar, if confusing, sounds of sickbay monitors. He shouldn't be here. His last recollection was of dying, half-mad (or more than half) on a planet with no real name, at the hands of a people they hadn't even begun to understand. Cautiously, he cracked an eye open.
Yes, sickbay.
His captain was to the left of him, pale and gaunt but firmly alive.
McCoy was to the right of him, unconscious but curiously healthier-looking than Jim.
After a moment of considering this impossibility, he allowed himself to sink into unconsciousness again. Perhaps it would all make sense on a different morning.
Re: I have to burn your kingdom down (Olya/Bones, Spock POV)
Date: 2012-01-17 04:41 am (UTC)I am in love with every blessed word, and oh, your Spock voice is phenom. This:
And then there was a tiger wreaking carnage. He sighed, wondering how long it would be before the damage done to him started shutting down body systems.
Ahahaha, how perfect. Of course the ~hallucination~ is an inconvenience! The illusion-state is unacceptable! And you've brought in the logic of fables, and Spock's estimation was nearly on target, and McCoy is healthier because Olga kissed him.
I am drawing hearts all over this ficcage. Your brain is the best brain.
Re: I have to burn your kingdom down (Olya/Bones, Spock POV)
Date: 2012-01-17 04:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-17 04:10 am (UTC)Hehehehe.
Putting out the Fire
Date: 2012-01-17 04:43 am (UTC)Some of the younger members of the Night Watch thought them slackers.
Or they did, until real trouble began, until the treaty started to creak with the tension placed upon it, until their way of life was threatened and war loomed dangerously.
Then they were there, with thousand-yard stares and an implacable sense of justice, the bear and the tiger, the stolid bezerker and the tough-as-nails street fighter, ready to take the front lines against whatever the Dark threw at them.
And then they weren't slackers. They weren't outdated. They weren't dead weight.
They were scary.
And suddenly, you didn't mind, the next time you were asked to go rouse them from whatever mess they'd drunk themselves into. They earned each and every drop, and more.
Re: Putting out the Fire
Date: 2012-01-17 04:50 am (UTC)I love these two. And they would be considered dated and slackers, until you needed them to kick some serious Dark ass and then you would realize just how wrong you were. This is perfect. I want to see a fight sequence montage now.
Re: Putting out the Fire
Date: 2012-01-17 04:54 am (UTC)Book!Katya would have had that lady's hands off. That'll stop any silly clapping. I mean, she was let off the leash for a few minutes and seriously mangled a pair of Dark Others who were supposedly fairly decent fighters.
*sulks at movie*
Re: Putting out the Fire
Date: 2012-01-17 06:31 am (UTC)Re: Putting out the Fire
Date: 2012-01-17 07:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-17 05:21 am (UTC)Be Careful what Spells you Weave
Date: 2012-01-17 06:25 am (UTC)There's so many things that could go wrong.
He rants and raves when his mother, that hardworking, long-suffering soul, finally falls ill under the crushing amount of work left behind when she was made a widow with two young boys. But she keeps silent, keeps her hands folded. What would he learn, what would he believe, if she removed every difficulty, even the ones that were inevitable?
He comes in, exhausted and drawn, barely-fledged man of the house. She plies him with vodka and pelmeni, letting the alcohol and carbohydrates lull him to sleep before slinging his inert form over her shoulders and hauling him off to bed, grumbling under her breath in Russian.
There are so many things she cannot tell him, so many secrets he will never be part of. But that doesn't so much limit the number of things she can do.
Re: Be Careful what Spells you Weave
Date: 2012-01-17 06:29 am (UTC)Re: Be Careful what Spells you Weave
Date: 2012-01-17 07:15 am (UTC)It helps that Katya is like a female, violent, Russian Peter Pan. *snerk*
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-19 08:13 am (UTC)I would like Bones - Doc! (Turnabout is fair play, after all.) This song. Lyrics here because I know they're kind of obscure.
Also, Olga - Skellig. This song. And even though they are much less obscure, lyrics here
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-19 01:54 pm (UTC)