[identity profile] lslaw.livejournal.com
A drabble for [livejournal.com profile] annwfyn.

In this world, I met a girl on a patch of waste ground. We sang and we danced, we drank and we kissed. I taught her to fight and she taught me to laugh.

I spoke her doom and I broke her heart.

Years later, she cut me from her mind.

In a world that is not your world, I met a girl on a patch of waste ground. We sang and we danced, we drank and we kissed. I taught her to hate and she taught me to regret.

I spoke her doom and I brought it to pass.
[identity profile] frothy-bunny.livejournal.com
Based on an AU timeline of things and inspired by [livejournal.com profile] annwfyn

Dawn would never have met Cyanide, and Eliza would never have had the courage to ask Dances out, Nyght killed Liam that night, Cat ran off and joined the firetouched willingly, Lucy took the other path and Charlotte ran into the night.

Moments change us and these were their moments.


Dawnbringer )

Eliza )


Nyght )


Cat )


Lucy )


Charlotte )


Sorry that I may have taken advantage of some characters, I hope that I haven't upset anyone. I know its mostly tat, but I am trying to get back into doing some writing.
[identity profile] dr-silverrose.livejournal.com
So, I was asked to write a non-canon crossover love story.  I chose Venice.  I chose SLA Industries.  (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SLA_Industries) And I decided that Venice wouldn't be loved by just one, mere person...she'd be loved by the whole, damned city.  ^_^  

And its all encapsulated in 100 words, exactly.

Merry Christmas, [info]annwfyn.


The World of Progress is a dark place, but people thrive in misery.  Venice is a survivor; all bright colours and ‘fuck it’ attitude.  Others wilt in the rains of Mort: Venice dances between raindrops, living loudly and chaotically.

The vids love her.  She’s on twelve different channels: sound-bytes blasting all day.  They’re thinking of Venice dolls and the “Venice Interest” drug that’s like sleeping with the great Venice, herself.

Yes, the city can’t get enough of her.  But as she looks up to the neon sky at night she wonders, do any of them really know her, at all? 

[identity profile] lslaw.livejournal.com
(Gehenna, Mikhail, Janos, Arthur, Sir James, Solomon and Julius; rapier, dreamcatcher, perfume - for Reb)

dreams )
[identity profile] elizathemekhet.livejournal.com
Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t have said what it was. But she knew that something just was not right.

She had felt some sort of touch go through her system but had thought little of it as she had been so busy with work.

It was only when she had gone through to the kitchen to wash her hands that she realised that something was very far from being right.

These weren’t her hands. This wasn’t her skin. Or her body. She never walked like that. And what in the hells was she wearing? She wouldn’t be seen dead in these clothes. And the wash of feelings and empathy colouring her system was obscene. She wanted to sing and dance and hug people and …

Rose. It had to be Rose’s fault. No way in hell did she ever feel like running around being all happy and singing and want to dance around with an invisible partner holding her to his heart. Or ever want to hug people.

Oh good gods. Someone had put something in her food or drink. She would have to chemically test everything she ate or drank from now on to ensure she had not been poisoned. And where would she get the relevant equipment from? And, more importantly, where could she hide it from her enemies?

Just who had done this to her? Her thoughts flew to likely candidates and settled on the most likely.

Lucan. He was determined to catch her out and prove that she was still a monster in disguise. It had to be his doing, via Rose. Yes. That was it.

Rose was in collusion with Lucan to destroy her.

A look in the mirror confirmed her worst fears.

Hurrying through to the main bar she confronted her nemesis. In her body. Was she really so pale? Did her skin actually catch the light that way?

“What have you done?” she asked the other.

It was beyond unsettling to hear her own voice say a muted “Sorry.”
[identity profile] frothy-bunny.livejournal.com
 The child was still screaming and Nyght was getting tired arms from holding it at distance to see what the problem was.  It didn't stop.

The day was going badly. Firstly she'd woken in a room, she didn't recognise, next to man, she didn't recognise, in a body, she didn't recognise.

She had stood at the bathroom mirror wondering who on earth she was until the man had woken up.  He had been affectionate and kind kissing her on the cheek and calling her Judas.  

Then there had been the child, which was where she was now.  She knew they required looking after, but seriously, she was not a good choice.  

It was a man named scooby who had come in and smiled, he mentioned paradox and she'd nodded and he'd fed the child.  She sat across the table and watched as the child ate and became cheerful again.  She looked down at the pyjama's and decided that actually with all these strangers she'd much rather be covered.  Looking at the wardrobe, she began to think this may be an issue.  She found something that was at least comfortable and went back to the kicthen. Scooby said something about looking after his angels and laughed and she managed a weak smile before he left her alone with the child.  As it finished eating and started squeeling about something she sighed and picked it up again. 

This was about to be a very long day.
[identity profile] frothy-bunny.livejournal.com
Nyght smiled inwardly as she curled up next to Rex to sleep.  

She thought with amusement on the day and sighed with a mildly evil contentedness.  Ok it had been weird waking up next to Rex, he'd been confused about her sneaking in comment.  But things were suddenly in sharp focus when she realised that she was in that bed, in that house, in a city 600 miles from where she had gone to sleep.  

She had called the Fiddler's Rest and heard the sheer panic hidden in the voice, complained about something that would have to be dealt with by a very lost Parrot and smiled that for once she had the day off and no one could find her

So what would Venice have done she had thought. Shop! Plus Venice wouldn't really be angry at her, well she might be when she woke up with the wardrobe in Inverness, she didn't keep her nicest things there and she had recently destroyed that Chanel dress in that sparring session, only fair to replace it.  

So that is what she had done, kissing Rex before finding Venice's money and cards.  A few hours later and a few thousand pounds less rich she had returned smiling having had everything sent to the Hotel in Hexham.  Rex had gone to the club and left her to her own devices.  That meant that somewhere was a video she would rather have destroyed than leak out into the general populous.  It would just take some searching, now if you were an evil parrot where would you keep it ...

She had found it and destroyed it, and then looked for any copies, and destroyed those too.  It had felt really good.  She had then sat and eaten cream cakes till Venice's undernourished body felt very sick.  After that she had become bored.  She had borrowed Rex's Rapier and practiced a little, the body while graceful had a different form of grace and wasn't very well suited to this she had thought.  

Then she had waited for Rex to arrive home, after all, being Venice had more than a few perks.....
[identity profile] akonken.livejournal.com
It was meant to be an experiment about brainwave patterns. You know the kind of thing; "what card am I holding up?" Only, of course, this was done in the secret lab, with fitted electrode caps on our heads.

Have I mentioned I love working here? This will become relevant.

So, we were sitting there and I was failing the test. (I think I got two right out of thirty.)

Then lightning struck.

No, I mean it literally struck.

You know how in Bugs Bunny cartoons, when characters get struck by lightening, they go all shaky and you can see their skeletons through their skin and then they walk around all jittery for a bit? That's not what happens in real life.

First of all, it hurts like hell. Like electricity running through all your nerve endings, let's say. And then there's a sort of aftershock (pun not intended), as your synapses try to recover.

I realised after a moment that I was having an out-of-body experience. I watched myself blink and look around. I listened to myself say "Emma, test the machines and-"

I giggled to myself, although it came out as a good-natured, deep-voiced chortle.

"Oh, sh-" I realised I was, indeed, in Mike's body. "-ugar."

More experiments, we decided, were in order. And quickly.
[identity profile] akonken.livejournal.com
The customer had been muttering something she hadn't understood, and when Lucie had served him, he'd clutched her hand - the one with the small scar. Lucie had stiffened warningly, and Rose went over to avert danger (just in case). She'd asked Lucie to go in the back for a little while, to wash up or something, and then had gently touched the man's shoulder to make sure he was okay. He left not long after that, and Rose cleaned up after him, taking his dishes into the kitchen.

There things got a little hazy.

Maybe she touched Lucie too? She wasn't sure, but she must have. A chill crept up her spine.

The chill stayed there. Still, she washed the dishes and went on about her evening. It wasn't even until she almost tripped on her long skirt that she realised she was wearing a skirt at all.

She hadn't been wearing one before.

Then she realised, now that she was paying attention, that her hand itched where the scar was. She didn't have a scar on her hand. She was always careful to-

Her eyes drifted to her skin. It was as pale as usual, but more sparkly, less...papery.

She heard a small screech and looked up to find herself staring at...herself. (Was that really what she looked like to other people?) Her face was flushed and she loomed more than Rose hoped she usually did. Was this why people sometimes didn't talk to her? Was this why Tor said he was intimidated by her?

"What have you done?" came coldly from her lips. It was surreal - yes, that was exactly the word, she thought clinically (and then wondered why she was thinking clinically; she never did that).

Still, that could be dealt with later. For now...

"...Sorry..." she said contritely in Lucie's voice.

Perhaps Rex Black would be able to help them find the man. If not, what would they do?
[identity profile] akonken.livejournal.com
She suddenly woke up as she slid off the bed.

She'd sort of been a little awake before that; enough to know she was on something slippery. So she'd been drowsily scooting away from it. That's when she fell.

She sat up suddenly, blinking back the sudden violent desire to, well, be violent. Blinking back at her, rather indolently, was a giant cat.

She screamed. It blinked again. She stopped screaming.

Where was she? It looked familiar somehow. She'd seen that cat before somewhere...Was she dreaming? She felt so strange.

But, as usual, she hadn't been dreaming her own dreams tonight. What was it she'd been doing?

It's dark, and there is a small light in front of her. She moves towards it - usually it never gets closer, but this time it does. It's a small candle suffocating in the darkness, and although usually she snuffs it out, this time she holds it in her hand and feels its warm glow wash over her.

Oh yes, Nyght's dream. She hoped it gave Nyght more hope, helped her be able to handle-

Oh! The cat belonged to Nyght! Had she accidentally travelled through the Dream?

She was pleased Nyght hadn't attacked her when she'd unexpectedly appeared. See, she was making progress!

The phone began to ring.

"Nyght? Your telephone!" Rose called. Then she clapped her hands over her mouth.

After a moment, tentatively, she said again "...Nyght?"

It wasn't her voice.

"Nyght?" she said louder, the thump of panic in her chest. Her emotions were all over the place this morning even though she was alone, she thought absently as she stared at the cat.

The phone stopped ringing, the sudden silence as jarring as the noise had been. Oh yes, she had been trying to figure things out, hadn't she?

Why was her mind so foggy? It was so hard to concentrate!

Oh yes. Nyght. Maybe she was in the bathroom?

She tapped on the door, but it wasn't on the latch so it swung open. There was Nyght!

"Nyght, y-" She paused and frowned. Nyght did so too. She tried again. "Nyght-"

Still Nyght soundlessly mimicked her. She stared. Nyght stared.

Finally the penny dropped.

"...Oh, rats."
[identity profile] elizathemekhet.livejournal.com
With apologies (!) to Kat Reid and James Holloway for misappropriation of characters...

“Oh my head…” Snowflake was aware, gradually, horribly, that her head was pounding. Even thinking hurt. And as for her body…

Waitaminute. She cracked one eye open. Then she dragged the other one open.

Where the hell was she? This wasn’t her flat. And that sure as hell wasn’t Eli’s arm around her waist…

She sat up in the bed rather sharply, staring in horror at her body.

Except it wasn’t hers. This was Mac’s body. Which meant that the warm body in the bed was one of Mac’s lovers. Snowflake turned to meet the amused gaze of Rex Black.

Oh shit.

“Overdone things again?” Rex drawled as he pulled ‘Mac’ against himself.

The Shadowsoul panicked.

“B..b… bathroom” she gasped in Mac’s accent.

Rex’s laughter followed her into the bathroom where she sank onto the toilet seat and shivered.

A chill suddenly went down her spine.

If she was here, naked, with Rex … where the hell was Mac?


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