Sample Sharing Time!

[bigbadgunn.livejournal.com]

Because it's Friday. Because I'm bored. Because I'm stuck at home at the moment but can't do much at all.

If you still got them, share with us your writing sample that you used to apply for you current or older characters.

Comments

[bigbadgunn.livejournal.com]

And I'd post my sample for Gunn but his big sis did an admirable job of doing my sample without even knowing it:

http://bigbadgunn.livejournal.com/1573.html

[wantstocheer.livejournal.com]

Awwww yay!

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Dinah was checking out the beach-- high tide had come and gone hours ago, and left behind a ton of shells and trash, picking her way through the pretty stuff and leaving the seaweed behind. Nothing like Missouri, and nothing like New Gotham; you wouldn't dare try to swim in the bay there. Not if you didn't want to die of ptomaine poisoning. She had to admit, as boarding school locations went, Barbara had picked out a nice one. Sun, surf, pretty hills, horses at the Gig, coffee shops, pretty birds flying by--

--pretty *men* flying by....

Dinah dropped the shells in her hands, and stared upward, mouth open. "Oh. My. God. Omigod!" She bounced on her toes, then shrieked, "Hey! Superman!"

The flying man turned, banked, then shot downward, raising one supercilious eyebrow at her as he landed. "I beg your pardon?" he asked. The French accent nearly made Dinah swoon, even though this close, she could see he wasn't Superman. But wow. Even cuter!

"Um, sorry?" She hunched her shoulders, going for cute. "I thought you were this guy... from back home. Which you aren't. Although you could be. I mean. You *fly,*" she gushed at him.

Jean-Paul's mouth twitched. "Yes. For years now."

"That is *so awesome*." Dinah hugged herself and beamed at him. "I, are you? Are you?" She dropped her voice, giving him a significant look. "You know."

"I do not know." Jean-Paul was having a little too much fun teasing the new student. "Canadian?"

"No! A *superhero*," Dinah said, in a piercing whisper.

"Mais oui," he responded, shrugging. "When I am home, yes. And when I am here, sometimes. But it is not a secret."

"It isn't?" Dinah gave him a wide-eyed look of shock, and maybe a little disappointment. "Wait, what?"

"I am out, and proud. Of the superhero closet, bien sur," Jean-Paul informed her. "My code name is Northstar. We have a team of superheroes in Canada. Much more practical than the masks and silliness of you Americans."

Dinah spluttered a moment, and said, "But, but, what about protecting your family? And people you love from harm? And, and, having a life outside of the public eye?"

"My twin sister is also a superhero. Everyone I care about can take care of themselves. And I like life in the public eye." Jean-Paul shrugged. "And you sound like an interviewer with the *Sun*. Are you a reporter?"

"No! No. God, no." Dinah bit her lip, shaking her head. "You're way braver than me, Mr. Northstar. I couldn't do it."

"Beaubier. Jean-Paul Beaubier. I teach Business at the school, Miss...?" He raised an inquiring eyebrow.

Dinah squeaked, then cleared her throat. "Lance? Dinah Lance. I think, um, that I signed up for your class. Sir."

"Then I shall see you on Monday, Miss Lance." JP gave her a quick nod. "Au revoir." And he was in the air before the last syllable was out of his mouth.

Dinah stood there on the beach, caught between starstruck and appalled. *Cute Flying Man Talked to Me!* ran her thoughts. *And he's my teacher and I was a complete doofus! Omigod!*

[Ahhh, Dinah. How far you've come. *facepalm* *snerk* And notafairy approved this cameo!]

[steel-not-glass.livejournal.com]

Oh thank god. I need a distraction.

Here's Cindy's!
***
Okay, there were some things that just weren’t even fair. An invasion she could handle, even if it was an invasion by green-skinned, bug-eyed creatures that intoned ‘Mars needs women’ all the damned time. However, pairing an invasion with a day of random *singing*? Even a day (and several stiff drinks later) that was too damned much.

Though Cindy had to admit that singing in harmony with a creature as they were dueling to the death was pretty awesome. Especially since it had seemed as surprised as she’d been when the first lyrics started pouring from their mouths.

Basically, this meant a call to Bigby was in order. With each new craziness that appeared randomly, she became all the more certain that he had known what kind of place he was sending her to and had done it simply to amuse his twisted and bleak little sense of humor. Which was why she hadn’t called him immediately after the invasion yesterday—she’d be damned to Mundy hell and back if she was going to call him while *singing.*

But she was due for a report, and so report she would. It would be a nice way to wrap up office hours for the week. And then she was going to Caritas to bug Tino for a Long Island Iced Tea. Who cared that it was only going to be 3:30—on a Wednesday? Just more fodder for the news squirrels.

And, yeah, thinking of the news squirrels was yet another reason to drink. She so owed her Teaching Buddy a fruit basket after laughing so hard during the explanation at the picnic. But…seriously. News squirrels?

She grabbed her phone and dialed Bigby’s number from memory, idly nodding to a student in the hall. Not one of hers, so she didn’t have to worry about the call being interrupted. “Hey Bigby,” she said when he picked up. “Report time!”

“…Hey, one of the perks of an off-the-books agent: I don’t have to file shit…Yeah, because the worst thing Fandom has to worry about it a teacher who curses. One of the students I just saw is a real, honest-to-goodness witch. Yeah, like a resident of Floor Thirteen. Only not as scary as Frau Totenkinder or that creepy little Ozma girl…Nothing much, just a random invasion.” Nothing could induce her to admit to the singing. Nothing. “Yeah, I hear they get those a lot. Good thing you sent me and not your precious Snow, huh?...Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve only been training to read people for the past two centuries. I hadn’t realized I was supposed to ignore your completely blatant crush on Snow White.” She rolled her eyes, suppressing a chuckle while Bigby did his whole spiel about his and Snow’s ‘professional, working relationship.’

“Right, right. Yeah, of course. Does that mean you don’t want me to repeat any of the things she said about you during our lunches?” Heh. It killed him to say no. Which was why she offered so frequently. “Any news from your end?”

As Bigby rattled off some tidbits from town, Cindy caught sight of Aeryn Sun, another teacher down the hall. She waved, pointing at the phone cradled between her ear and her shoulder, and mimed shooting a gun. The two had struck up a friendship after Cindy had let her cover slip enough to admit to loving guns. At Aeryn’s enthused nod, Cindy flashed her a double-thumbs up and then focused back on what Bigby was saying.

“Crane, huh? He was always a sketchy bastard. Kept staring at my tits. Term’s almost ending if you need me for a few weeks this summer?...Yeah, I’ll keep my schedule open….Sure, sure. Can do….All right, I’m out. Give Snow a hug and kiss for me….Aww, right back at you.”

With a snort, Cindy closed her phone and dropped it in her purse. Maybe she could catch up with Aeryn and convince her to stop by Wellspring for a bit. Shooting was an even better way to let off some steam than drinking was. And, even if it wasn’t, there was nothing that said they couldn’t head over to Caritas afterwards….

[magdaofslovenia.livejournal.com]

“Sophie Devereaux. Auditioning for the part of Titania,” Sophie said, shielding her eyes against the lights, and smiling out into the audience with utter confidence. “Act two, scene one!”

Sophie centered herself, closed her eyes, then had them pop open in all the rage of Titania, Queen of the fairies, ruler of all she surveyed!

”These are the forgeries of jealousy:
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
Or in the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport….”

She made sure to get the emphasis right, to put in extra imperial gestures, including the wrist to the back of her forehead, the scolding, shaking finger of Doom, the pointing finger of Accusation and the classic Hair-toss of Rejection. Really, when one had these elements in the arsenal, it was all too easy. Acting usually was, though.

A small, itchy thought that this was why she liked grifting more; one didn’t always know how it would come out….

“And this same progeny of evils comes
From our debate, from our dissension”

Dramatic pause, inhale deeply and use the Piercing Stare:

“We are their parents and original.”

There, perfect! The director had to recognize the professional caliber in front of him now!

There was a stunned silence from out in the audience, then a weak, “Well. That was certainly… intense.”

“Oh, thank you,” Sophie smiled beatifically out to the dark area beyond the lights. “I’ve always identified with Titania. She’s really an expression of primal forces, you know, even more than she is a mortal person, and I think a much larger-than-life character who really deserves to be played at full-throttle—“

“THANK YOU!” The director was sounding a little more harried. “We’ll be in touch. Really. Thank you. NEXT!”

So much for artistic chit-chat. Ah, well. There’d be time later.

On her way out of the theater, she saw a girl sitting in the lobby, studying a script and looking very nervous. She was repeating Helena’s lines over and over, and then whapping herself in the face with the script.

“There’s no good reason to abuse Shakespeare,” Sophie couldn’t help but observe. “It can’t be that bad.”

The girl gave her a woeful look, and said, “Helena’s an idiot. But I’m too tall for Hermia.”

“Well, yes.” Sophie wandered over and smiled at her. Easy to do when the girl wasn’t auditioning for the same part. And she’d always had a soft spot for the triers, the ones who might not ever be professional but clearly loved the attempts. “She’s in love. Everyone in love is an idiot.”

“How is anyone supposed to like her, though? The audience has to be thinking she ought to know better, and she should,” the girl objected. “She’s beyond ridiculous, which, you know, great for comedy, terrible for not laughing during the lines.”

Sophie studied her; physically, she’d be perfect for the part, almost typecasting, but mentally, she wasn’t in the right frame of mind…. “It’s a dream,” she told the girl gently. “The whole play. In a dream, you just *go* with what works. It doesn’t have to make sense, because you’re in that moment, that emotion. Don’t think about the ending. Or happily-ever-afters, or how unlikely they are barring love potions. Helena is living inside her skin at that moment, because she can’t do anything else.” She gestured to the girl. “Stand up.”

The girl stood, giving her a questioning look. “Now, spin around.” Another look, and Sophie laughed. “Trust me?” Sighing, the girl spun. “Faster. Faster. Stop!”

And because it was too long...

[magdaofslovenia.livejournal.com]

She put the script back in the girl’s hand and said, “That line, there. Read.”

“O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent
To set against me for your merriment:
If you were civil and knew courtesy,
You would not do me thus much injury…” read the girl, swaying a little, breathless and off-balance. She got through the lines, then frowned thoughtfully at Sophie. “Oh. So. Not-thinking and overwhelmed is how to play her?”

“Exactly. Now. Go in there and knock their socks off,” Sophie said encouragingly.

The girl beamed at her. “Thanks! Oh. I’m Dinah. I hope you get cast too!”

“Thank you!” Sophie called after her, laughing.

Out in the street, she put her sunglasses back on, and contemplated lunch at that little Café she’d seen—then stopped dead at the corner, pulling off her sunglasses to stare. Perhaps someone had spiked her water?

A herd of knee-high *blue* deer were crossing. At least twenty of them. Single-file. Clip-clop clip-clop.

One of them stopped to blink at Sophie, then went on its merry way into the park.

Sophie rubbed her eyes again, almost willing to believe it had been a hallucination, until she saw the sign on the corner:

TEAL DEER CROSSING.

Please hold long conversations elsewhere!

“Right,” she muttered to herself. “Time for that chocolate.”

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

The funny thing is we wound up playing out something like this IG, too. Shh. Ah, old, wee-er Jak times.

---

It was a sunny day out on the beach. This was something Jak really couldn't find any problems with. The place was a lot like Sandover when the weather was like this, the water sparkling (if totally void of biting fish creatures. Jak approved of that. A lot. Nothing said 'joy killer' like a fish with teeth gnawing on your ankle mid-run, and trust him, he knew), the sun shining, the birds skimming high up above and crying out towards the horizon. Excellent, awesome day. And he didn't even have any classes. He gave the beach his thumbs up, then perched his hands on his sides, and grinned.

He looked sideways at his companion, shooting him a grin, too. It was good. Everything was awesome. He was so going to beat Zack.

"Are you r--" Zack started, halfway into returning the look.

Jak kicked off, speeding across the sand, his feet thudding harder harder hardest across the beach. He enjoyed the scorch of the sand between his toes, the breeze in his hair, the fact that Zack was still about a hundred meters behind him going, "Whoa, I guess that's a yes!" and totally failing to get anywhere, sucker. He was going to win this one. He took a quick right and buzzed into the undergrowth past the tree they'd specified as a marker.

Rounded it. Back along the beach. He still couldn't see Zack anywhere. Awesome. Keep your eyes on the prize. As long as Fandom didn't start raining candy or evil cranky monkeybirds, Jak was in the clear.

And there was the goal spot. Yeah! He picked up some more speed, digging his toes into the ground on every step, then launched himself at it. One jump! Then a second one, straight in the air, to carry him to the--

The tree hit him smack in the face. You know, usually, Dax would've been yelling about a tree being in his path like five minutes ago and this wouldn't have happened, but that hadn't happened, because Dax wasn't here, and now Jak had the headache of a lifetime as he slowly, slowly peeled away from the tree. And fell. Backwards. Hard.

Thud said his back against the ground.

"Yeah! Made it!" said Zack, off in the distance. "Um... are you okay?"

Jak opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and stared hopelessly up at the sky as he tried to make all the turning stop by dropping his head back into the brush.

He could swear he could see Dax hovering above him shouting, 'And that's why we don't walk into walls, Jak! Also, watch for the bushy eyebrows--' right before he passed out, but he had no idea why. How was he supposed to know when the trees came to life, anyway?

[likes_scoundrels]

I had been told I needed to work bananas, monkeys on tricycles, and pie into my writing sample.

---

The first thing Leia had done when she arrived in Fandom was yank her hair out of the ridiculous braids her aunts had weaved before she left Alderaan.

The second was attend the welcoming picnic and meet her roommate and assigned "big sib," as well as receive a multitude of warnings about gremlins, glitter, zombies, jello dragons, sentient bananas, monkeys on tricycles, and carnivorous pie. She wasn't buying any of it, dismissing it all as pranks played on new students.

The third was finally reach her room and resist the urge to headwall at the sight of all the trunks of dresses that had been sent ahead of her. She wanted to cast off the role of princess and just be free to be herself at this new school. It was the only benefit to being sent so far away from home.

With a sigh, she flipped open the nearest trunk, digging out the more sensible clothing and debating what to do with the gowns. Tossing them out the window was tempting, so much so that she actually moved to the window and pushed it open. A small creature darted inside the room, and she spun around to face it. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, but she'd lost track of the number of alien races she'd encountered while traveling with her father, so a strange appearance didn't bother her in the slightest. What she did find disturbing was how the creature was looking at her and salivating...as if it were somehow aware of the heritage that she herself was still clueless about.

"Hello," she said cautiously, crouching down so she was more level with the creature. "Are you lost?"

"Watch out!" a voice called from the open door, and suddenly the creature was flying through the air and back out the open window. A small and barefoot blonde girl stepped into the room. "That was a gremlin. You have to watch out for them. If they bite you, you...." She broke off, staring at Leia.

"Thanks," Leia said, though she still didn't believe the whole gremlin bite story she'd been told. At the other girl's wide-eyed stare, she added, "Are you all right?"

"I have to go," the girl said, backing away until she was in the hallway again, where she turned and fled.

Leia sighed again, rubbing her forehead. She really hoped that people didn't know her title already and this was how everyone was going to act around her.

[knowsnokungfu.livejournal.com]

Ah for the first time EVAR I actually... sort of borrowed someone else's character in this one. In a vague and unnamed sort of way.

==========

Chuck had been at this school all of... A week? Barely. And he was already being persuaded to do things that he was pretty sure were of a dubious moral nature... Or at the very least against school rules. Potentially both.

Wait. Scratch that. Probably both.

Times like this he wished he were a little less trusting and impressionable, and a little more able to hold his ground. Sadly, that was not the case, and here he was, running through the campsite in the pitch dark, close on someone else's heels. It was a miracle he hadn't fallen over a log and given them away already.

"Wait," Chuck hissed, tiptoeing as fast as he could while remaining unheard by the rest of the campsite. "I really don't think we should be--"

It was a bit late for complaints. Looked like it was getting done whether he liked it or not. Window was already cracked open and the figure ahead of him was hoisting himself up to crawl into the cabin.

"--doing this," he finished lamely.

The guy could just block out any negative remarks. Ego the size of Russia. Nothing got through.

"Ooookay then..." Why he was bothering to say any of this out loud, even he didn't know. Nervous need to babble. "But let it be known, I objected. Strongly!" Okay, not that strongly. What? It counted!

"Don't be pathetic, just get up here," the voice came from inside, rudely breaking past his semi-internal chatter.

"Right. Yes. Sure." Way too agreeable for his own good, Chuck scrambled up rather more clumsily to slither over the sill, only to fall in a heap on the cabin floor the other side. Smooth, so smooth.

"... Okay, seriously, what was that? Get up," came his partner in cabin crime's derisive tone. His sneaking skillz needed a bit work, it was true, but it wasn't like there was anyone in this cabin to disturb. They were only sneaking in a window because neither of them had a key.

"I told you, I'm not made for stealth," he whispered. "I'm really more a stay at home and watch it on TV sort of a guy," Obviously, and the eyeroll from the other member of this elite retrieval team said it all.

"Shut up and keep an ear out, will you?"

Chuck nodded obediently, nervous as he was, and, not for the first time, wished he were anywhere but here. He could be safely holed up in his alcove asleep, or playing on his Gameboy. But nooooo, had to agree to help pull this little scheme. Stupid.

At least he felt a little like he was pulling something out of Jimmy Bund if he concentrated hard enough and tried to forget about the very high potential they'd end up getting caught and thrown in detention, and oh god he really didn't want to get stuck in detention. Who knows what they'd make you do at a school like this. Nothing normal, he was sure.

After a couple of moments of shuffling around, he turned to see how the search was going, and watched his 'friend' snag a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand with a smirk. "Gotcha."

Chuck stared at him for a long moment, almost not believing what he was seeing. He couldn't have just bought more? "That was it? That was your whole big mission?" Knowing who he was dealing with, he really shouldn't have been at all surprised.

"Yep. Just getting back what's mine. Let's get out of here."

Chuck sighed. Typical. It was just so freaking typical.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

I CAN SEE THROUGH YOUR VAGUENESS HOMG.

You know, it took me until JUST NOW to remember when he'd lost his cigarettes. AND NOW I REMEMBER. Look Chuck, he's preparing you for the FUTURE. Feel lucky.

[bloody-luck.livejournal.com]

*summons the power of teal deer!*

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a breeze blew through the trees of the preserve, ruffling the fur of the teal deer as they raced toward a glade. It blew past the pirate, seeming to shy away from the stench that enrobed the man, ruffled the feathers of the ducks in the pond, and knocked the hat off of a young man on horseback. The breeze was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.

“Blood and ashes,” the man, who went by the name Mat Cathoun, swore, reaching futilely for the hat as it fell. He sighed heavily as it fluttered behind him, then put his horse in the stable and retraced his steps on foot. He’d spent a gold mark on that hat in the Aiel Waste and it’d kept the sun off of the back of his neck during that desperately hot march to Rhuidean. He wasn’t going to allow an errant gust of wind to take it from his possession now.

He trotted a little bit as he got closer to where it had fallen off, then slowed down, puzzled. The hat was hovering a few inches above the dirt. Mat looked around a little nervously. If those bubbles of evil had followed him to this island and he was in imminent danger of being killed by his hat, he was going to have some words for Rand. Blood and bloody ashes, he liked that hat. The hat moved, and Mat took a few steps back as it tipped over to reveal a tiny green creature with very sharp-looking teeth.

“That’s my hat,” Mat told it.

The creature had quite a different opinion as it chattered angrily at Mat, then pulled the hat over one eye and hummed a little tune to itself, strutting around in the dirt.

Mat glared. “No, that’s my hat,” he said firmly, stepping closer.

Later, when the venom wore off and Mat vowed to never again “do a little turn on the catwalk,” he wondered if it was possible to capture those vicious creatures. He knew a couple Aes Sedai who could stand to be yanked down a peg or twelve.

[vanillajello]

[I don't think I've shared this before. I also think this got accidentally sent in as one single chunk of text.]

Kate kicked off her shoes and sat down on her bed, grateful her roommate was nowhere to be seen. She needed some alone time. Fandom High was overwhelming, even for someone like her, who had thought she could handle all and any weirdness that was thrown her way.

Apparently, even having a mom who acted like a bunch of different people when she was stressed hadn’t prepared Kate for Fandom.

She reached into her bag – which was almost under the bed – and pulled out the last of the jello cups her mother had given her when she left Overland Park three days before.

...Three days? Seriously? It felt to Kate like at least a week had passed, or maybe even two, since she had hugged her parents and Moosh and Aunt Charmaine goodbye and pretended that she didn’t feel at all like crying her eyes out.

So much had been going on since then. It was insane.

It was also really, really fun. Even being told off by a Mountie, which by the way she hadn’t exactly been expecting to happen. And she wasn’t exactly sure she believed all the things the other kids told her, but she was very interested in getting to experience the effects of whatever the hell they put in the drinking water over here herself. Mutant alligators? Zombies? There was obviously a rampant drug problem at this school.

...Or at least that was what she had first thought. It had begun to dawn on her that she really wasn’t the weirdest kid at school anymore; she wasn’t even the girlfriend of the weirdest kid in school. Actually, Kate was kinda normal by Fandom’s standards. No one was staring at her. She had planned to not tell anyone about her mom’s condition, but it didn’t seem like it mattered much here. Some of the kids – if what they were saying was true – weren’t even human. So yeah. What was a personalitywise over-equipped mother compared to that? A very mild oddity.

Kate smiled to herself as she licked the jello cup clean. She might have just found her place.

[...So yeah, IG it took her six months instead of three days to get to this point, and she's not really even there yet. And she still hasn't met the Mountie!

ETA: Coding is haaard.]

[just-add-starch.livejournal.com]

We should make that happen. He's always willing to lecture students.

[imonscholarship.livejournal.com]

I think Dan's is the only one I haven't shared before

----------

Dan Humphrey was talking to the coffee maker.

"...and, believe me, I understand what it's like to work and work and work and hardly get any credit. I mean, at my old school I was on scholarship and I had to work twice as hard as anyone else to stay there and did I get any recognition? No."

Dan Humphrey thought he had a good reason for talking to the coffee maker.

"But, trust me, I am very thankful for what you do and I am totally prepared to compensate you somehow if you just work."

The coffee maker just stood still. Like a coffee maker does.

A coughing noise from behind Dan. "Can I ask what you're doing?"

Dan facepalmed internally when he recognized the voice as female and turned around slowly to face her. He didn't recognize the girl but she was cute and now she was going to know him as the freak who talked to the coffee maker. Dan cleared his throat before trying to explain his situation. "The coffee maker, it's, uh, not working. I did everything right, I mean, because I've made coffee before and I'm not too good at the fancy stuff but this whole Folgers and water thing I can do. It's not gourmet or anything but my dad likes it..."

Get to the point, Dan.

"...and, anyway, my sibling, my fake sibling, I mean, told me that the appliances around here have gone on strike before and I figured the coffee maker was on strike. I mean, can you blame them? They cater to people who just woke up so I imagine the only form of conversation is a series of grunts. The morning breath has got to be awful. And there's those people who leave the coffee on forever and get that black crap at the bottom of the glass coffee holdy part of the machine. It's a hard knock life for the coffee maker."

The girl walked over towards Dan, giving him a sly smile. For a second there Dan thought he was about to be hit on because the girl was sliding up awfully close to him. He was beginning to think that maybe she had a thing for appliance activists.

Instead of throwing her arms around Dan's neck and kissing him for being such a caring human being, she reached over to the coffee maker and held up a cord. "You forgot to plug it in, Champ."

Dan squeezed his eyes shut as he felt himself blush. "Right. Plugging it in. That would be extremely helpful. Thank you."

Oh dear god, someone kill him now.

[wantstocheer.livejournal.com]

HAHAHAHA <3

[decoder-rings.livejournal.com]

I've shared this before but I'm sharing again because IT IS STILL MY FAVORITE

--

Hannibal didn't much like libraries. They were too quiet, too dusty, too...filled with books. But, girls came to the library and, thus, Hannibal King came to the library. Honestly, he didn’t even know what the hell the book was in front of him. He'd read the same page three times and had understood none of it.

There were more important things to do. Things like watching Sam Winchester talk quietly to Lucas Scott over there in the corner. Their heads were together and Lucas was holding a book in one hand, close enough to Sam that they could both read it.

Even someone like Hannibal, someone who thought relationships were meant for those generously proportioned women on the covers of romance novels and men who worked as accountants by the day and house husbands at night, could tell what was going on between Lucas and Sam. Please, you only needed eyes to see what was going on and Hannibal had eyes.

It was kind of perfect, Hannibal mused to himself. Sam was eighteen feet tall and Lucas was...well, Lucas reminded him of a troll doll. Maybe Sam had a thing for troll dolls. Hey, a person's kinks were their own and it wasn't Hannibal's place to go passing judgment.

Still, a troll doll. It was better than a Barbie doll. At least Lucas, probably, had all the right parts. And Hannibal didn’t want to think about what Sam did if Lucas wasn’t...correctly built. That was a kink he didn’t even want to touch, not with a seventy foot, insulated pool.

Ew.

John Sheppard slid into the chair next to Hannibal and said, "Whatcha looking at?"

Hannibal pointed his pen at Lucas and Sam, who were now smiling at each other. "What do you see?"

John squinted at Lucas and Sam and then said, "Lucas and Sam. Reading."

Hannibal scoffed and then patted John on the shoulder. "Oh no, my friend. That's Lucas and Sam. Falling in love."

[stayingfrosty.livejournal.com]

"Right," Price said, feeling right at home behind the counter of Wellspring Arms. He'd faced seemingly imminent death on more than one occasion, it would take more than being a salesman to get him uncomfortable. Even his clothes, civilian garb certainly, a black turtleneck and olive drab slacks with trainers, fit him just fine. He eyed the immensely fat man across from him. "And how can I help you, Mister...?"

"Dukes," Fred replied. "I need a gun."

"Well the name of the place is Wellspring Arms," Price replied, not sure if he liked the man's seemingly gruff demeanor. But he could tell a military man from a mile away... even if one was buried under hundreds of extra pounds. "Are you looking for a pistol, rifle, shotgun?" He knew the rules of the place very well, he'd make sure every regulation and requirement his boss had dictated would be followed. Especially with the likes of a man like Fred.

"Gee, a pistol," Fred said. "Yeah, a guy my size really wants a damn peashooter."

"Hardly like to make assumptions, mate," Price said. Now he just wanted this blowhard out of the shop. "Now if you'd tell me what you do want, that would be helpful. If not, well, we're not a bloody Marks and Spencer."

"A... what?" Fred said, not following.

"Department store," Price replied, scratching at his beard. "Now what are you looking for, hunting rifle, shotgun? If you're looking for something to scare off burglars, I'd say you already have that covered." He wasn't being rude, he was paying a compliment.

"You want to say that again?" Fred said.

"Just sayin' you've got a strong presence," Price said. "What, former Marine I'm guessing?" He seemed the type, Price gathered. The right sort of attitude.

"Nice save," Fred said. "Shotgun. Remington double-barreled."

"Right. And with the American laws, that we can do right over the counter," Price said. The rules in this place amused him just a bit. "Got a bit of hunting to do?"

"None of your business," Fred replied.

"All of my business," Price said. He narrowed his eyes and set his hands on the counter. "We don't just sell guns to whoever asks, here. We have the right to ask what you plan to do, and refuse to sell based on our own discretion. Now my name is Captain Price, and I'd like to know your full name, former rank, and how exactly you left service, and then we can get to the dirty parts about why a man the size of a bloody tank needs a shotgun on this island, eh?"

Price didn't mess around, and he wasn't about to let a blob of a man intimidate him in any way.

[onlysmokesnics.livejournal.com]

Hayley bounced into Caritas and sat down on a stool. She sat, her chin in her hands, her elbows on the bar. Her outfit wasn't that far from her old St. Agnes' uniform, black skirt, white blouse, black sweater vest. She had on bright red stockings, though. She liked the red and black. It reminded her of that night. "Jeepers," she said, looking around in awe. "This place sure is wild."

"Oh, you have no idea," Chuck said, getting Tino to pour her a drink.

"But man, that band sure looks beat down. They're practically dead on stage," Hayley said. She giggled. "Someone ought to breathe some life into 'em."

"They're zombies," Chuck said, smiling to himself. Hayley, though, instantly took great notice of his suit.

"Ohhhh, wow," she said, reaching over to touch the fabric of his jacket. "Purple's a great color on you." She totally had forgotten about the zombie band in that split second. "You ever thought of changin' your hair?"

"I'm Chuck Bass," he said. "I don't need to change my hair."

"Awwww," Hayley said, playing with his tie. "Not even for me?" She looked up at him with big doe eyes.

"I don't even know you," he said.

"I'm Hayley Fitzpatrick," she said. She fluttered her eyelids and gave a little sigh. "You know, you sure got a strong voice, Chuck. I bet all the girls like that. You the kind of guy that gets everyone fawning over you?"

"I'm Chuck Bass," he said, confidently.

"What a world," she said. She let go of his tie and took a long sip of her drink. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could score me some Nics, would ya?"

Chuck's brow furrowed. "I don't know what those are, but I'm sure I can find some."

Hayley's face lit up. And she bounced in her seat. Literally. "Oh, you'd be the best ever, Chuck. Please, please, please find some, would ya?" She liked this town even more, now. If only she could convince this Chuck guy to dye his hair green.

Emma's Sample

[icecoldfrost]

"Oh god, what is this?" Emma flipped through the course catalog, undisguised disgust written upon her elegant features. "'Care and Feeding of Magical Creatures'? No. I think not. Mucking out stables isn't going to teach me anything that I need to know. Does this school even have a maths department?"

"It could be fun," her roommate offered from the other side of the room. "You'll need electives for college, anyway, and my mother says that showing a wide range of - "

"Your mother is a fool trying to escape her 1950s housewife repression by projecting all her thwarted desires onto her daughter," Emma snapped, not even looking up as she flipped the page. "The only thing worse than the class selection is the clubs. Required after-school activities? Really? And instead of archery or chess club or equestrianism, they offer only flight club, cooking, and cheerleading. It's downright plebian, darling. Any self-respecting bastion of higher education is going to laugh themselves shitless when they see our transcripts."

"Diversity is important - "

"For liberal arts majors," Emma cut in. "I'm sure you'll be wonderfully employable with that degree in English, darling. Do tell me how your Great American Novel turns out. For the rest of us, however, a certain focus and determination is expected. You know, things like math, science, public speaking and pre-law coursework."

"'Management Theory'. Finally." Emma scribbled in a block on her schedule, looking mildly relieved. "That gives me three, then. One more, and I'll have a full course load. 'Flight', no. 'Gym', ah, no, never. 'Mythology'... hrm. Tempting." She kept flipping, looking more and more disgruntled as she read. "No, no, no, no, no..."

"Ethics!" Emma's face practically lit up as she filled in the last line on her schedule request form. "There. Done. Fantastic."

"Ethics," the other girl scoffed, folding her arms and looking at Emma. "Someone like you is going to take ethics? Seriously? As if."

"Of course," Emma replied, arching one elegantly sculpted eyebrow at her scowling roommate. "Ethics is vitally important to 'someone like me.'"

"After all, you can't break all the rules if you don't know how the game is played."

[see-beyond.livejournal.com]

I don't think I've shared Jonas' sample yet. It's one of the less crackier samples I've ever written.

--

Jonas didn't know what he was looking at. He wandered into the common room early today, having been unable to sleep. There weren't dreams (there never were) but there was a restlessness he'd felt since leaving the Community so long ago. He felt that if he slept too long, he'd been captured, caught and punished by being Released. Due to that, Jonas had a lot of early mornings.

It was quiet, as it usually was when it was this morning and Jonas still didn't know what he was seeing. He searched through his memories, the ones received from the Giver and the ones learned from the village he'd spent time in before coming here. There was nothing, though. Nothing to explain the small, noisy object in front of him. Jonas picked it up, shook it and then placed it back on the table. He hated this. He hated feeling like some idiot searching around in the dark when everyone else made things look easy. He hated not being able to figure out the smallest things while he knew the pain of war and the desolation of loneliness. It wasn't fair.

"It's a rattle," someone said from the door. Jonas jerked his head up, eyes widening at the sound but relaxing when he recognized the speaker of the voice as someone from down the hall. He'd seen her before but, then again, it was hard to miss her. She dressed in clothes unlike any other and seemed to always be eating junk food. Even now, at this early hour, she was eating chocolate, something he'd come to know (and enjoy).

"Rattle?" Jonas repeated, holding the object up and examining it carefully, committing to memory. "What's that?"

The girl sighed but she had a smile on her face as she did. She'd helped him before and he liked her. "It's a baby toy. They shake it and it's supposed to stimulate them. Or something. I dunno, I'm not a mother."

Baby toy. Jonas' attention went back to the rattle, carefully running a finger over the smooth surface. He'd never had a toy like this as a child. They'd been given a stuffed animal and then a bicycle. This was new. This was--

--something he wanted to give to Gabe. Jonas knew he could transfer the memory easily but seeing Gabe holding the rattle and smiling would give Jonas a measure of happiness that he didn't often to have.

When Jonas looked up to ask another question, the girl was gone and he was alone again with the rattle. He was taking it. If someone asked, he'd offer to replace it but he was taking this and giving it to Gabe the next time he visited. Jonas had lived a childhood of gray. Gabe deserved a childhood full of color.

[gorka-wolf.livejournal.com]

Written before I knew whether or not I was getting a make_the_shot, and shameless appropriation of other people's characters within...

---

Makita remembered hitting her head.

She had jumped into the krawl, pulling the hatch shut just before the blastwave hit and she had been tossed about like a rag doll, the back of her head slamming against the metal interior of the tank.

The next thing she knew, she was waking up under a tree with pink leaves. Cool grass under her fingers, and...snow. Everywhere outside the radius of the tree.

Yeah. Not in Bahamut anymore.

A quick check proved that she still had all her gear: Papa's letter, his scythe and hammer, her hat, all her knives, both guns, and spare ammo clips...everything was fine.

"There you are!" The voice startled her, and Makita was already rolling away and bringing up her firearms, training them on the voice. Girl, her age. Blonde pigtails and a bemused expression. Not a Red, going by the clothes, but not Nokgoran either. Not with that skin-tone. "Hey, Momoko! I found her! Come on, you're missing the picnic."

"Who are you?" Her voice was slightly raspy from inhaling all the ash during her run from 'wave. "Where am I?"

"I can kill you before you can fire that," the blonde girl informed her, rolling her eyes. "Triela. Fandom. Welcome to school."

[gorka-wolf.livejournal.com]

***

The picnic had gone well enough, and when cupcakes had started falling from the sky, Makita had proclaimed this her 'favorite concussion ever,' much to the amusement of Triela and Momoko - her 'Big Sister' - but it was after that when the trouble started.

"Like hell!" 'Kita howled, snarling at the man in the red - Red - uniform, hands protectively clutching her coat closed. "You are not taking my guns!"

"There is a no weapon policy in the dorms, and - "

" - fuck you and your policy! My concussion, my hallucination, I can do what I want!"

"Miss Galilei, this is not a hallucination..."

"Makita! My name is Makita!"

"There a problem here?" The tall woman striding over to them looked like a Nisaanti and carried herself like a fighter, and Makita snapped to attention.

"This #!?*&*#@($& Red whoreson is trying to steal my gear," she growled, glaring at the flustered man. "You can pry 'em off my corpse when I'm dead, not a moment earlier."

"Galilei, I'm guessing?" The woman asked, giving the Red an amused glance as he nodded an affirmative.

"Makita."

"Okay, Makita, here's what we're going to do," she continued, as if Makita hadn't spoken. "Constable Fraiser, go get Kyle Reese or Sam, and ask them to take Makita to the weapons locker, so she can stow her gear properly. We are a civilian establishment, and firearms are expressly forbidden in the dorms, since we don't want a novice getting their hands on something they can't handle."

Makita nodded slowly, unable to argue with that sort of logic coming from another solider. "Triela and Momoko come along too," she demanded. At the very least, the little redhead would make a decent hostage. "What about my other gear?"

"Triela's got gear in the lockers too, so she's cleared to be there," the woman replied evenly, as the Red headed off to find the people she'd named. "Depends on what you got, and how you're carrying it."

Makita eyed her warily for a moment before shrugging out of her coat, revealing an oversized men's shirt that came down to her knees and belted at the waist, and a variety of knives, ammo, grenades, wires, three guns, and a hammer and scythe.

"Dear lord, it's a miniature female version of Jayne," the Nisaanti breathed, eyes going wide and a grin tugging at her lips. "Grenades need to be crated and stowed in the locker, same with the ammo. You can keep two knives in your room, the rest need to be stored."

Makita shook her head and pulled her coat back on. "Too much work for a concussion," she growled. "And I'm not putting Papa's tools in no storage, dream or not. I made a promise." A promise not even hours old;

Run, Makita, run. Your time is now, my beauty. Carry on my will. Don't look back. Run.

Makita shook her head to dispel the scream building in her heart as a wiry kid who also moved like a soldier was jogging over to them, and the tall woman sighed. "You can keep tools, then, but they stay in your room. They can't go to class. And you can discuss the 'concussion' theory with the others on your way to the storage."

Makita watched the older woman for a moment longer, risk assessments and exit scenarios running through her mind; and then she grinned, bright and impish against the shadows under her hat. She was safe enough here, for now, while she figured out what was going on. And if that changed, well, Makita was very good with going with the flow. "Right. 'Cause this is a school, 'an I got transported - although how I slept through a 'Gate, I got no clue - and this isn't a figment of my rattled brain. Got it."

Besides, Papa always had lamented Makita losing her tutors and not finishing school. She would do this for him, for now, and find a way to carry on his will. The Elders could stamp their feet at her when she got back to Bahamut.

"Kid!" she grabbed the new arrival's arm, just like she usually did with Dushka, hauling him along in her wake as she headed back towards the waiting Triela and Momoko. "Which one are you? Reese? Okay, Reese, here's how it's gonna go...is there anyone around this place by the name of 'Antares?'"

[notmyownage]

Totally borrowed the Mountie for this one. I could not resist!

* * *

For a school full of crazy people, Fandom High's locks kind of sucked. Either that, or Claudia was some kind of lock-picking prodigy genius.

She decided it was probably a bit of both.

The bolt slid quietly aside and the door popped open an inch. "Claudia: one, science lab: zero." Staying low in her crouch, Claudia cast a quick glance up and down the hallway, then pushed the door open far enough to slip inside. "Eat your heart out, Perth Tristow." She pulled the door quietly shut behind her and looked over the darkened science lab. "Now I just need to extract the minerals and set up the electromagnetic field. In the dark." Okay, so maybe her breaking in skills could use some work. "Mental note: invest in a flashlight."

"You may find a headlamp works better for your purposes. It leaves your hands free to work."

Claudia spun in place, making out the shape of the mountie silhoutted behind her in the ambient light from the hallway. She hadn't even heard the door open again. Crap.

"I like your hat."

"Thank you." The mountie stepped forward. "May I ask what you're doing here?"

Claudia flashed what she hoped was an innocent smile. "Would you believe extra credit?"

"I might, were it not for the fact that I watched you pick the lock, you didn't turn on the lights, and you started that sentence with 'would you believe'."

"Yeah, those locks were totally lame. I could probably rig up something better for you guys."

"That won't be necessary. I'll ask one more time: what are you doing here?"

Claudia slumped and looked down, her hair falling in her face. "I'm trying to complete my brother's life work by properly recreating the experiment that got him killed." She glanced up through her hair. "And I didn't want to blow up the dorms."

"That's very noble. Perhaps you can take the time to consider how to best execute the experiment without blowing anything up while you're in detention."

"Aw, come on. Can't I just promise not to do it again?"

"You can do that, as well."

The mountie was totally immune to her wiley girlish charms. Crap! "Fine." He gestured for her to precede him out the door, and Claudia slouched back into the hallway, head tucked mopily against her collar.

Well. At least they weren't going to expel her.

[bamf-tastic.livejournal.com]

Two figures moved through the preserve quietly, one slinking through the undergrowth with the not-quite-silent grace of an out-of-practice trained hunter, and the other leaping from tree to tree like a monkey.

"I STILL say this is a bad idea," the one on the ground hissed. "I know it's not written down anywhere, but there are some species on this island that are just OFF LIMITS. It's not too late to go after, like, a rabbit or something."

The other swung down from the branch he was on and hung from it so that his face was level with his companion's. "Ja, ja, you have TOLD me, Ponytail," he said. "Consider me warned. But it's not like I'm going to HURT them." Kurt grinned. "Just make sure your camera's ready." He looked back the way they'd come, and figured they were deep enough into the forest that no one would see, so he switched off his image inducer. He wasn't comfortable showing his true self to just anyone, but friends were different.

"YAAAAAGH!" Sokka shouted, backing up a step. "WARN me next time, okay?!?!? It always freaks me out when you do that!!!"

Kurt facepalmed. "Stop SHOUTING, dummkopf! You'll scare them all away!!!" He sighed and jumped down from the tree. "Well, let's see if there are any left around. Lights! Camera! Action!!!"

As Sokka filmed, Kurt began expounding on the epic greatness of the feat he was about to accomplish -- something which no one had done before, or would ever do again, a once in a lifetime event that needed to be recorded for the ages as documentation of the TOTAL PWNAGE of the fuzzy blue dude. In the middle of the speech he lost his train of thought, and he switched to quoting some Shakespeare he'd had to memorize for class, and then after that, some Space Battles. Curious faces started poking through the foliage around them, and eventually they were surrounded by a number of teal deer.

"That one," Kurt whispered, pointing at the buck with the largest antlers. Sokka turned and aimed his camera at the creature, which barely had time to register that it should be frightened before a bamf! and a puff of foul-smelling smoke dropped a pair of arms around its neck. "Gotcha!" Kurt exclaimed, as he wrapped his legs around the deer's middle.

After that, a few things seemed to happen all at once: The deer Kurt was riding let out a bizarre noise, something like a dying giraffe, and tried to buck him off. Sokka stepped back to try to take in a wider angle shot, and tripped. And the rest of the deer flicked up their tails in alarm and bounded off into the forest.

"YAHOOO!!!" Kurt shouted. "Ride 'em cowboy!!!" The deer he was on eventually stopped bucking and instead took off running randomly. Sokka was left to pick himself up off the ground and, still filming, run after it.

The deer ran madly through the forest, careening off of trees and trying desperately to knock Kurt loose. A few times, it succeeded, but Kurt teleported onto its back again before he even hit the ground. It was a wild, crazy romp, and totally exhilarating.

...And then it was over far too soon, when the deer suddenly slowed down, calmed down, and stopped where it stood. Professor Skywalker stepped out from behind a tree and glared.

"Uh-oh," Kurt sighed, looking sheepish. "Busted..."

[nofishinmypond.livejournal.com]

Jack drove his boat over to his favorite spot and weighed anchor. Assuming 'weighing anchor' means throwing it overboard to park the boat; if it doesn't, he did that other thing. Off on the shore, some really familiar looking meta for Chewbacca of a man was yelling at some kids in bathing suits. Great. Well, they could just swim AROUND the boat -- it's not like there was a shortage of water.

He set up his lounge chair on the deck, cracked a cold brewski, pulled his hat down over his eyes, and settled in for a nice, warm afternoon of sun and absolutely nothing else. Ahhhh...

He must have flailed in his sleep or something, because the next thing he knew he was covered in warm beer and someone was yelling at him from the water.

"Hey, MISTER! I'm TALKING to you! That bottle of yours almost HIT me in the HEAD!!!"

Jack, still half asleep but already looking for a towel to wipe up the spilled suds with, waved the voice off. "Oh, blow it out your ass, Rodney." The double-take was EPIC, and he was at the railing and peering over the side in only a few fractions of a second. "Doctor Rodney McKay? What the hell are you doing--" He blinked. "You keep making me do double-takes and I'm going to get whiplash!" he grumbled. "LOok at you, Rodney -- you're, like, what, TWELVE?!"

"DOCTOR Rodney McKay... I like the sound of that... And I'll have you know I'm SEVENTEEN! Just who are you and how do you know my name?!?"

Well, it wasn't HIS Rodney, then. People being turned into kids wasn't actually as unusual as it sounded, even outside of Fandom, but this was some alternate-universe kid Rodney, or maybe a Rodney from the past. Something like that. The island was starting to hurt his brain. "I dunno, Rodney. YOU'RE the second-smartest person on the face of the planet -- YOU figure it out."

And there was that cute little Rodney-glare that Jack knew and hated. Like he was so smart, and you were SO beneath him or something. Which, of course, was all TRUE, but he didn't have to rub it in. "Well, I mean, OBVIOUSLY you're someone from my future who knows an older me. I was asking for something a little more SPECIFIC."

Jack held off on answering that one, because he'd deliberately tried to provoke Herr Genius there, and it would probably take a few more seconds to sink in. With comedy, the timing was just SO crucial.

"..Wait. What do you mean, SECOND smartest?!?!?"

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

And I have posted this one once before. I think. But whatever, it's a favourite. It's always fun when they come easily.



Parents.

It all began and ended with parents. More specifically, hers. House was like a fucking warzone between them, and without Tony around, everything was falling apart around her faster than ever. Then there was 'that fucking incident' as her father so eloquently put it. Their principal had gone all but purple trying to explain that one. She'd thought maybe the woman's head would explode. It would've been funny.

And now she was here. Leaning out of the passenger side of a rental car, staring out at an island. An island with a castle, of all things. One she'd have to live in for the next... God knows how long. Until her parents considered this rebellious streak to be out of her system, at least.

"Place looks like it fell out of fucking Disney," her father remarked dryly.

Effy said nothing, just exhaled a long stream of smoke. What exactly did he expect her to say to that anyway? It wasn't that she didn't agree, more that she hated admitting that she agreed.

"And will you put that sodding thing out, Eff," he added, slamming his own door open.

She rolled her eyes at that, taking one last drag before she stubbed it out. Like he didn't have worse habits than that. She knew he did. Swearing every other word was just one of many. Her family could keep a talk show going for weeks with their issues. It was better when she ignored them.

A hand got dug into her jacket pocket at a harsh tone, and Effy eyed the caller display of her mobile for a long moment, purposefully ignoring the stream of curses and insults directed at the American automobile industry now coming from her father at the realisation he couldn't even shut his door properly. It was probably his own fault. Moron.

Another moment, and she lifted the phone to her ear. "... Yes?"

"I wanted to talk to you before... before anything else," Freddie's voice was low, and there was a lot more feeling in there than she wanted (or even could) deal with. Always was with him. Not even in the same country and that was still true. Boys were such hassle, sometimes.

"I'm not talking," she told him simply. It was a strategy that had worked out well for her for so long. She almost wished she hadn't bothered starting again sometimes. So much damned effort.

"You don't have to, I just--"

"Did you not hear me?" Simple. Detached. Direct. It was all that was needed with most people.

In the background, her father had moved on to kicking the car door roughly. At least he wasn't swearing at the thing anymore. Progress?

"Wait, Effy... Effy, I--"
That icy exterior never had worked on him. He was as bad as Tony, seeing right through. She listened a brief moment longer before deliberately hanging up and getting out of the car herself. Freddy had too much fucking heart.

... "Who the buggering tits was that?"

Effy rolled her eyes, without a word and turned heel towards the school.

Parents.

"Wankers," she muttered, and didn't even glance back.

[iknowstuff.livejournal.com]

I've shared this before. I don't care. It's still my favorite:

-------------

She was busy at work in the park, laying down a pool of epoxy. Events were unfolding just as they were supposed to happen and she had worked out all the possibilities. Including Merlin-

"Hi Layla," the boy wizard said walking up behind her. "What are you doing with that gooey stuff?"

-showing up to ask questions.

"Saving the universe," Layla said cheerfully.

"... With gooey stuff?"

"Well it's a bit of a stretch," Layla said spreading said epoxy on the ground and then opening the hardening tube of epoxy. "You see earlier today I placed a rock on Apocalypse avenue that Lindsay Boxer tripped over, spilling coffee over Dale Cooper. Dale then went home to change his shirt and Charlotte ended up taking it to the cleaners. While she was there she ran into Jolee who was there dropping off one of his robes because Tino spilled mustard on one of his robes last night from a hot dog I gave him."

Merlin frowned. "But what does that have to do with the gooey-"

"Well you see Jolee gets delayed five minutes talking to Charlotte about tending bar at her wedding so he misses running into Anakin who's a bit upset because he found out that Jaina and John slept in the flight shed again."

"How did he find out about that?"

"I might have let that slip to Francine who was making cookies in the common room last night," Layla said now spreading the hardening agent over the other "gooey stuff" as Merlin had called it. "Anyhow that means that Anakin didn''t get a chance to vent to Jolee about his grandchild and the boy with the hair so he was more angry than he would be when he got to his Flying workshop. As a result he accidentally sent a coffee mug into the simulator console."

"Accidentally?"

"Well he was aiming for John's head," Layla explained as she stood up to admire her work. "Which means class got canceled."

"And that saves the world?"

"Not quite," Layla explains as she took Merlin's arm and dragged him behind a bush and motioned him to be quiet. "You see since class is canceled, Worf decided to go hunting in the preserve but has to pick up his bat'leth from Minsc who borrowed it to train Boo in the art of mok'bara."

"Does Worf know that Boo is just a-"

"No, he doesn't know Misnc well," Layla said waving for Merlin to be quiet. "Now, hush."

And there was Worf walking along the park when he stepped onto the epoxy just at the right moment of hardening, causing the Klingon to trip and fall violently to the ground.

"Oh my!" Merlin said standing up, only to be pulled down again by Layla. "Shouldn't we help him?" he asked.

"Wait," Layla hissed quietly. "Just wait."

And a minute later a shirtless boy who just happened to be visiting the island appeared gasping in amazement upon seeing Worf. "Worf! Are you okay?" he said helping the alien to his feet.

The Klingon shook his head, looking unsteady on his feet. "Worf? Who is this Worf you speak of?" he asked looking woozy.

The shirtless boy patted him sweetly on the shoulder. "That would be you," he said licking his lips. "Here. Let me take you back to my room to check you out."

"Are you a doctor?" The amnesiac alien asked.

"I can certainly play doctor," the shirtless boy replied happily.

Smiling in victory, Layla stood up from her hiding spot. "There we go. Mission accomplished."

"Accomplished what exactly?" Merlin asked popping up beside her.

"Well eventually it'll lead to a boy named Torf being born but that's a longer story," Layla said cheerfully.

"And he saves the world?" Merlin asked looking confused.

"Eventually," Layla replied. "But first he has to go to school here and learn how to knit dildo cozies from Arthur."

"Arthur knows how to knit?" Merlin wasn't about to ask what a dildo cozy might be used for.

"Not at the moment," Layla explained as she began to walk away. "First he has to learn from Ronon Dex."

"How do you know all this?" Merlin asked.

"Because I'm Layla Miller," she called out. "I know stuff."

[therewaslife]

I had some fun writing this one. I used a dearly departed character and he made it easier.

---

There was a graveyard on the island. Despite knowing that it wasn't the graveyard he was familiar with, despite knowing he wouldn't find his mother and father there, wouldn't find Mother Slaughter or Liza Hempstock, he ventured there anyway. It was a lot smaller than the graveyard he knew but there was still something about it that alleviated the homesickness that he sometimes felt.

When another boy suddenly entered the graveyard, looking lost and confused, Bod's first instinct was to fade, to get out of sight of the boy but it was too late. The other boy had sighted him and came closer.

"Hey. You seen a girl here?" the boy asked, voice sharply southern and features looking so confused Bod feared they might stick like that.

"No," Bod answered simply. "It's just me." The last girl he'd seen in a graveyard had run away from and never once looked back. Bod wasn't a monster but that memory made him feel like one sometimes.

"Well, shit," the boy said, scratching his blonde head harshly. "I was jest supposed ta to meet some girl out here cuz she said I'd get lucky if I could find the graveyard. Said she'd be waitin' on some grave and we'd do it in the dirt. She ain't here?"

Bod shook his head. Even for someone that liked graveyards as much as he did, even he couldn't see the allure in having sex in a graveyard, out in public, on dirt that would surely hurt your bare body. "Sorry," Bod apologized. "She's not here. It's just me."

The other boy pursed his lips, looking around at the various graves and then back at Bod. "I think I'll jest wait. Maybe she's late. You know how girls are. Primping and shit. Gotta look their best before they get boned."

It took effort for Bod not to wince at the phrasing. Instead, he forced a smile and took a few steps away from the boy. "Perhaps you should sprawl out on the dirt on top of one of the graves. I'm sure it would be more comfortable. And you'd look very inviting if--when the girl shows up."

Bod didn't know exactly why he was teasing the other boy besides the obvious stupidity he was being presented with. Bod was a teenager, he was only human and sometimes he couldn't help himself. Still, watching the boy actually listen to him and lay down on top of one of the graves, sprawled out several feet above a coffin and rotting bones was too much for Bod. He knew he'd have to leave soon or risk laughing.

"Thanks for the advice, man," the boy said, grinning slyly. "I'll jest wait right here for her and then we'll have some fun."

"Um, good luck," Bod say, barely holding in his laughter as he started slowly backing away. "Yeah, that's--good luck." And then Bod started running so he could be well out of earshot when he started laughing.

[living_endless]

That is just *awesome.*

[angelandwitch.livejournal.com]

This is not my favorite, but it worked :D

---

Paige was still baffled by the fact that the Elders had sent her so far away from her sisters and that she was going to be teaching magic at a high school in Maryland. She stood at the front of the classroom, watching her students file in, wondering which one of them was her new charge. Once they had all arrived, she walked over to shut the door and smiled at them.

"Good morning. I'm Paige Matthews and this is Magic for Dummies," she said, casting nervous glances around, almost expecting the Cleaners to show up and chew her out for talking about magic in public. When that didn't happen, she continued her introduction. "I'm guessing most of you are taking this class because the concept of magic is new to you. It's only been part of my life for about four years and I remember very well how overwhelming and scary it can seem."

She looked over the students to judge their reactions to her words. "Let's start with introductions. Tell me your name, where you're from and why you decided to take this class."

As the first student started, she relaxed. Surely someone would say something in their introduction that would easily lead her to determining her charge's identity.

"I am Prince Arthur of Camelot and I am taking this class to better understand my manservant, Merlin."

"My n-n-name is Chloe Saunders, from New York and I s-s-signed up for this class because I recently learned that I'm a necromancer."

"I'm Karla from Glacia in Kaeleer. I'm interested in learning more about the magic and witches of this world."

On and on they went with the introductions as Paige began to think she would never figure out who her charge was. The Elders had failed to clue her in about just how... special... Fandom was with the mutants and witches and wizards, oh my. When the last girl had introduced herself (daughter of a demon called Trigon that she would absolutely be looking up in the Book of Shadows), she smiled at the students, a bit more hesitantly than she had earlier.

"Wow, we certainly have a lot of different types of people here," she said. Master of the understatement, she was. "My knowledge is limited to the magic of my world, so I'm just as excited to learn from you all as you are to learn from me." Maybe she would actually believe that once she got over her shock.

[wantstocheer.livejournal.com]

Claire's is still my favorite though.

---

Even though Claire knew she didn't have to keep her abilities a secret in Fandom, she wasn't terribly open about them. Except with one certain group of beings. A group whose help she needed right now. She opened the package of shiny marbles that she had picked up at Turtle and Canary and dumped them on the floor near the vent in her room. Within minutes, a swarm of gremlins came out of the vent and went straight for the objects.

"Stop right there," she said, covering the marbles with her hand. "You can have these, but I need your help."

One of the gremlins bit her hand and gave her an expectant look.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine," she said. "You can each have two bites [i]and[/i] the marbles, but only if you promise to do what I ask."

The gremlins jumped up and down to signify their agreement to this plan.

"I need you to go and bite Sam Winchester," Claire explained. "He hurt Peter and I won't have that. He needs to be punished and I can't think of any better way to do that then have you all go after him."

The gremlins eyed her warily. Sam was big and kind of scary. And related to other big and scary people.

"Come on," Claire begged. "I really need you to do this for me. I'll let you each have three bites. After I get confirmation that you were successful in your mission."

The gremlins agreed to this and scampered off with their prizes.

The next day, Claire was lounging on her bed when the herd of gremlins came through her vent. She grinned at them, knowing they had been successful thanks to the radio. "Okay, guys, line up."

She didn't realize that her door was open just a smidgen and was distracted by reading a magazine while the gremlins feasted on her.

"What the hell, Claire?"

Startled, she looked over to see Ben Skywalker standing in her doorway. "Oh, hey, Ben. Um, what's up?"

The gremlins immediately perked up at the presence of a Skywalker. "Why are you letting those foul beasts bite you?"

"Don't even think about it," Claire warned, noticing a few of the gremlins heading towards Ben. She gave him a sheepish look. "Their bites don't have any effect on me. So I let them bite me once in a while."

Ben gaped. "You let them bite you? And you don't end up doing embarrassing things? I think I hate you."

Claire smiled. "Aw, come on," she said. "I'll make a deal with them that they can bite me instead of you?"

It was worth a shot at least.

[allyofthevarden.livejournal.com]

Arya had decided it was time to check out the gym in town. She'd heard good things about it and decided that maybe she should take her training to a more suitable venue. Her room wasn't exactly the largest space in the world, after all.

Making it to the Atlas gym in record time, Arya took a moment to study the layout and equipment on the floor. They certainly looked... interesting. Then again, this place was so very different from Ellesméra-- not that she was complaining. Not at all. Arya picked up a practice blade from the wall, letting it rest in her hand for a moment. Then she gave it a test swing, deciding that it was a good fit-- even if it wasn't her sword. Funny how she suddenly wished Eragon was here. She could use a good sparring partner.

Moving through a few formations she'd learned from Brom, Arya wondered if she should believe all the hype surrounding this place. Gremlins, squirrels reporting the news, random invasions-- if she hadn't just been through an intense battle for her homeworld, she might have considered these people were crazy. Her background as a courier and ambassador had taught her to hold back her assumptions until she could better defend them.

Given everything she’d seen and experienced in her one hundred years of life, she could accept this place for what it was-– and for the people and creatures living here. And because she'd happened upon one of those squirrels just the other day, she wasn't going to call anyone crazy anytime soon. Arya knew that wherever he was, Brom was smiling down on her. Possibly even laughing at her, finding this to be far too amusing for his own good. And if there was ever a place that could make both she and Brom smile, Fandom was it.