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fiction_drabblesTitle: Price of Admission
Challenge/Prompt: #142 - Battle
Original Fiction or Fanfiction: Original
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own disciplinary techniques.
Summary: He holds her teachings in the highest esteem.
◘◘◘
“What did you do?” she would ask him, and he would stand before with hands clasped behind his back and shoulders soldier-stiff and tell her. A classic technique, he had heard her say. Teaches honesty. Responsibility. Good-little-boy necessities.
He clasps his hands now in a nostalgic nod, but he hasn’t washed yet and the feeling is less than pleasant, so he lets them swing loose by his sides once more. She doesn’t seem to notice, kneeling before him with eyes cast upwards, a tremble on her lips and reaching hand.
“What did you do,” she whispers. “What did you do.”
-
Title: an open letter
Challenge/Prompt: #143 - Forgotten
Original Fiction or Fanfiction: Original
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own the apocalypse.
Summary: found the pen behind the desk it was from thailand pretty useless really but at least i can do this
◘◘◘
my name
check under the couch there will be a hole in the underside and a gun is in there. no ammo but maybe you will have more luck than me. there are also some other things take them if you want leave them if you dont im not going to care.
i dont think i was very good at this. i hope you are. i hope you find this i hope you EXIST never heard of one-in-seven-billion statistics so there has to be someone. thats just maths.
just want someone to know i was here MY NAME IS CA
Challenge/Prompt: #142 - Battle
Original Fiction or Fanfiction: Original
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own disciplinary techniques.
Summary: He holds her teachings in the highest esteem.
◘◘◘
“What did you do?” she would ask him, and he would stand before with hands clasped behind his back and shoulders soldier-stiff and tell her. A classic technique, he had heard her say. Teaches honesty. Responsibility. Good-little-boy necessities.
He clasps his hands now in a nostalgic nod, but he hasn’t washed yet and the feeling is less than pleasant, so he lets them swing loose by his sides once more. She doesn’t seem to notice, kneeling before him with eyes cast upwards, a tremble on her lips and reaching hand.
“What did you do,” she whispers. “What did you do.”
-
Title: an open letter
Challenge/Prompt: #143 - Forgotten
Original Fiction or Fanfiction: Original
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own the apocalypse.
Summary: found the pen behind the desk it was from thailand pretty useless really but at least i can do this
◘◘◘
check under the couch there will be a hole in the underside and a gun is in there. no ammo but maybe you will have more luck than me. there are also some other things take them if you want leave them if you dont im not going to care.
i dont think i was very good at this. i hope you are. i hope you find this i hope you EXIST never heard of one-in-seven-billion statistics so there has to be someone. thats just maths.
just want someone to know i was here MY NAME IS CA
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-04 01:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-04 02:36 am (UTC)Thanks for commenting C:
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-05 05:47 pm (UTC)Open Letter - think I read through that in about one breath. Frenetic pacing, as it should be. That bit about "i hope you exist / statistics" made me laugh - the narrator's tone hits just that right mix of hope and desperation. :)
Price of Admission - :[ there's such a weight to this. torn between not wanting her to hear the answer, because it would be horrifying, and between wanting her to hear the answer, because same reason.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-18 08:18 am (UTC)I've always been of the opinion that if I found myself in the midst of a global disaster I'd expire pretty quickly...but maybe the Heroic Survivors would learn something helpful about the way I died or the random stuff I left lying around, in which case it would be nice to be known as something more than Headless Corpse #74.
'Course, knowing my luck, two weeks later a zombie bird would make a nest out of my letter. Jerks.