Rating: G
Characters: Florence Vassy, Freddie Trumper
Word Count: 401
General Summary: Freddie's been acting suspicious and Florence isn't having it.
Author’s Note: A prompt from December 2019, only just finished, from ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
carolferris; Prompt was 'You keep giving me excuses, what’s your problem?'
“What did you do?”
“What the fuck are you on about?” Freddie’s voice immediately rose in pitch, and he winced before trying again. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been tiptoeing around for three days now.” Florence folded her arms and stared him down. “What are you hoping I won’t notice?”
Equivalent Exchange
Tuesday, 1 October 2019 00:55Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: G
Characters: Adrian Veidt, Bubastis
Word Count: 1061
General Summary: Adrian Veidt's relationship with Bubastis began long before she was born, and continued after her death.
Author’s Note: A prompt from June 2019, only just finished, from carolferris
It had, Adrian had reflected as he kept his eyes rooted to the output from the computer bank attached to the intricate machine, with all of its tubes and monitors, been an significantly more complex endeavour than he had originally thought it would be.
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Fandom: Doctor Zhivago
Rating: G
Characters: Lara Antipova, Pasha Antipov, various original background characters
Primary Pairings: Lara Antipova/Pasha Antipov
Word Count: 539
General Summary: One morning, Lara comes to Pasha with an usual request.
Author’s Note: A prompt from June 2019 - "Teach me to fight."
Pasha doesn’t ask questions when Lara comes to him one morning, early even by his standards, her face drawn and pale, and insists that he teach her how to fight. Instead, he finishes dressing and takes her down the road to another house, knocking on the door until the shutters opened on one of the upper windows, a figure leaning out of it. “Who is it? Don’t you know what time it is?”
“It’s me!” Pasha called up to the figure in the window. “I need to talk to Anya!”
There was a groan from above them, and the shutters closed. A few minutes later, the door opened and a young man that Lara recognised as one of Pasha’s friends – she couldn’t remember his name – ushered them in. “Pasha, I know we’re friends, but you can’t just pound on my door at all hours!”
“Tolya, listen.” Pasha let go of Lara’s hand for the first time since she’d come to his rooms in order to put both hands on the other’s shoulders. “Would you have preferred I climbed in through the window?”
Tolya pulled a face that said that he didn’t doubt the implied threat, and didn’t particularly relish the idea of waking up in the middle of the night to Pasha scaling the building and crawling through his window like some kind of creature of the night. “Sit down. Anya’s still getting up.” As they both sat down and he began distributing cups of a dark, strong coffee that threatened to make Lara’s eyes water, he glanced over at Lara and then back to Pasha. “What do you need to see Anya for at this hour anyway?”
Almost as if on cue, Anya emerged from another room. She was a stocky woman who was – to Lara’s surprise – several years older than the rest of them, but around Lara’s height, her dark hair tied back with a scarf. She looked from Tolya, to Pasha, then, cocking her head, shifted her gaze to Lara, taking her in with a coolness that was slightly unnerving, but Lara met her eyes with her own, holding eye contact as steadily as she could manage.
“You want to learn to fight?” Her voice was higher than Lara had expected, with all the authority of a particularly strict schoolteacher, and it was all she could do to nod silently in affirmation.
“How did you figure that?” Tolya looked from one woman to the other, then at Pasha.
Anya snorted. “There’s only so many reasons he brings anyone under a certain height around, and it’s because he’s too tall to do it effectively himself.” She broke eye contact with Lara, turning instead to Pasha. “A word, Pasha.”
As soon as they were out of earshot of their companions, Anya gripped Pasha’s arm tightly. “Who’s hurting her? Her father?”
Pasha shook his head, unsurprised that Anya was able to read the situation so easily. “Her father’s dead.”
“Then who?”
He shook his head again, his mouth twisting into a grimace. “I don’t know. She doesn’t want to tell me.” When she raised an eyebrow, he looked into his cup instead. “I won’t force her to tell me, Anya. I don’t ask questions she doesn’t want to answer.”
The Seventh Day
Sunday, 30 June 2019 00:40Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: G
Characters: Anathema Device, Newt Pulsifer
Primary Pairings: Anathema Device/Newt Pulsifer
Word Count: 2196
General Summary: On the seventh day after the world fails to end, Anathema Device asks herself, "Now what?"
Author’s Note: A prompt from June 2019 - "I remember everything."
On the seventh day after the world ends – well, almost ends anyway – Anathema Device, witch, and up until recently, professional descendent, disappears. She doesn’t tell anyone where she’s going, in part because she doesn’t know herself, really. So she just disappears with nothing more than a short note.
Gone searching. Be back soon.
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Untitled (Prompt: Prove)
Wednesday, 6 February 2019 00:06Rating: T
Characters: Moira Gavenwood, Lazarus Maerret
Primary Pairings: Implied Moira Gavenwood/Lazarus Maerret
Secondary Pairings: Referred to Arthur Gavenwood/Lazarus Maerret
Word Count: 520
General Summary: After the death of Arthur Gavenwood, Lazarus finds himself answering Moira's question about his relationship to her late husband.
Author’s Note: This is just a fun little prompt that was for the term "prove" but also was inspired by carolferris joking about Moira being like "Well did my robe at least look good on you?"
“You wore my robe.”
It was a statement, not a question, and Lazarus merely shrugged. “Borrowed, yes. It was in the wardrobe.”
Moira stared at him for a moment, then allowed her gaze to slip from his eyes down to his feet and back again, a rueful smile flickering at the corner of her lips. “Did you at least look good in it?”
At this, Lazarus raised an eyebrow, but reached out to finger the hem of one of the sleeves. “I can always demonstrate, if you’ve any doubt.”
There was a moment in which he felt certain that she was going to order him out of the room, but then she tilted her head to one side, as if considering it, and then offered the robe to him. “Though I would appreciate it if yo–”
“I’d like to bathe first if it’s quite all right.” Lazarus cut her off, anticipating what she was about to suggest, and when she nodded, slipped into the bathroom.
As he hung the robe up on clothing rack near the door and padded across the cool marble to the tub, he heard the tell-tale sound of the lock clicking on the bedroom door before he turned on the water. Slowly, he stripped out of his clothes, giving the bloodstained fabric a sad smile before shrugging and slipping free of the nigh invisible harness at his hips, a few simple command words enough to set it into the brief self-cleaning mode required for maintenance every so often. Sinking into the tub, he dispelled, one by one, the tiny illusions woven into his hair and skin, leaving him fully exposed beneath the water. There was, of course, the consideration that Moira might see fit to intrude on his bath and see him undisguised, but he was past caring.
In any case, he doubted if she was likely to expose him – if she did, it would be his own fault.
It wasn’t until he was fully dry, his hair still slightly ruffled from the process, that he approached the dressing gown. It hadn’t been laundered yet, and the fur trim still retained the barest hint of his own cologne mingled with the faintly intoxicating scent of Gavenwood’s own, something he realised that Moira must have also recognised immediately. Not waiting further, he slipped on the robe, tied the sash loosely about his waist, and slipped out into the room.
Moira was still there, her hair tied loosely back from her face, a glass of wine in her hand as she watched from her place on the sofa, her eyes tracing over the contours of his body through the fabric, and while he made the decision not to let the robe fall open as he crossed the floor, he knew that he might as well have.
Crossing one leg over the other, she leaned against the backrest and set her glass down on a nearby table, her eyes lingering back over the Undercommon glyph tattooed on his hip before rising to meet his gaze, a smile hovering about her lips.
“If nothing else, my husband had taste.”
Untitled (Prompt: Power)
Tuesday, 5 February 2019 14:31Fandom: N/A - Based on my Saturday Dungeons and Dragons Campaign
Rating: G
Characters: Gyda Cahrel, Lazarus Maerret
Primary Pairings: Implied Gyda Cahrel/Lazarus Maerret
Word Count: 330
General Summary: After a botched job, Lazarus has crashed back at his reserved room at Madam Tatiana's, and Gyda, as usual, has questions,
Author’s Note: This is just a fun little prompt that was going to be about knifeplay but ended up being a short buddy comedy scene between my Lazarus and Katy's Gyda who are just both the absolute worst.
“Do you do that often?” Lazarus glanced up from where he was finishing stitching up the stab wound in his side, an eyebrow raised questioningly, and Gyda rolled her eyes. “Stick a knife in whoever you’re fucking at the time.”
At this, Lazarus pursed his lips and tilted his head back and forth for a bit, as if trying to count actual instances of that kind of behaviour over the past century of so. When he finally replied, it wasn’t with an answer, but instead, “With or without their wanting it?”
Gyda shot him a look that told him, in everything but words, to drop the bullshit, and he sighed in lieu of the shrug he’d normally have given and went back to stitching himself up. “I haven’t stabbed anyone here if that’s what you’re asking. Tatiana would have my head.”
He’d barely gotten the words out before Gyda snorted. “Among other things.”
“Fair.” Wincing as he pulled the last of the stitches tight, he offered half a smile. “In any case, if the pay’s good enough, I’ll do it as often as necessary, I suppose.”
“With or without their wanting it?”
The mock-up of his accent was just good enough to make him laugh, then immediately cringe from the jolt of pain that came with it, and he flashed her a grin. “Depends on how good the pay is.”
There was a long moment of silence, in which Lazarus felt his companion’s eyes on his back like the edge of a freshly sharpened blade dragged down his spine, and it seemed like ages before he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Though, if you’re wondering, I doubt you’ve got the money, ’Zerena.”
She laughed. “You don’t think I could afford you?”
Laying back on the bed, Lazarus stretched out his legs over the footboard and rested his head against her knee. “Not unless you’ve been very dishonest about your finances or political pull, darling.”
At this, Gyda merely laughed.
Work in Progress
Wednesday, 26 December 2018 02:15Sorry things were a complete mess for a while but I think we're ready to get off the ground now!
Uneasy Animals: The Wolf as Criminal in ‘Les Misérables’
Wednesday, 26 December 2018 02:08The most consistent use of wolf imagery in Les Misérables is in relation to criminal activity, with references to “furtive goings and comings, silent entrances and exits of nocturnal men, and the wolf-like tread of crime” (5.3.8). Most often Hugo’s use of wolf imagery extends to the notion of criminality in regards to several of the characters found in the novel, from Bamatabois’ wolf-like gait as he creeps up on Fantine (1.5.12) to Montparnasse’s demeanour upon being caught by Valjean, which is described as being “the humiliated and furious attitude of the wolf who has been caught by a sheep” (4.4.2). This imagery extends from these minor characters to a sizeable number of major players in the novel, who all exist in various shades of grey morally but who are all, in some way, linked together through imagery and contact with one another.
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[Note: The following meta is the product of me thinking entirely too much about watching Pacific Rim and Kaiju biology. Most of this is speculation on my part, and may be disproved by information that I don’t currently have access to, so if you know something that I don’t know then by all means, do tell shoot me a message or something of that nature. Anyway, here goes nothing.]
The easiest way for me to start this is by examining briefly what we do know about Kaiju biology. We know, for instance, via Newt’s initial drift with the damaged Kaiju brain, that Kaijus – at least the ones that leave the Breach – share a collective consciousness, a sort of hivemind. Through the same drift, we also know that the Kaijus that leave the Breach are all clones, sharing the same genetic material despite displaying wildly different shapes and adaptations.
Lastly, we also know that Kaijus have two brains, the latter of the two being the secondary brain, the location of which Newt indicates by referencing the popular myth of the “dinosaur’s second brain” (it is pretty safe to assume that Newt knows that the dinosaurs did not have an actual second brain, but given the continued popularity of the myth today, it makes a good reference point to explain the location of a piece of Kaiju biology to a layperson).
Now what’s really cool to me, is the implications of some of these facts when paired with other things that we see in the film.
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On Feuilly and Combeferre at the Barricade
Wednesday, 26 December 2018 02:00So the other day, there was a quote going around, but because it was Feuilly appreciation day, it didn’t feel right to use the quote to talk about Combeferre, so I’ve waited until now to do it. It’s not much, just some thoughts I was having at the time.
And Combeferre simply answered with a grave smile, “There are people who observe the rules of honor as we observe the stars, from far off.”
On the one hand, Feuilly’s bitter disappointment in this quote is absolutely heartbreaking because he believed in the men whose names he rattles off - he believed that they’d help and it’s utterly foreign to him, the notion that they would do something as utterly dishonourable as to abandon them in their time of need.
On the other, it’s Combeferre’s response that kills me. Because everything about Combeferre’s response - the “grave smile,” the simplicity of his answer, the way that he answers a very complex question with a response that doesn’t begin to cover the same ground - it all points to one thing.
Combeferre knew.
Combeferre has his share of idealism, true, but he is also practical and understands people better than Enjolras does, and so Combeferre knew that those men, even as they vowed to aid them, had no intention of following through when the time came. While Enjolras fully believed that they would not be fighting alone, Combeferre knew that the odds were that they might be, but he hoped that they wouldn’t, and it was his hope for humanity, for the fact that they might not fight alone, that kept him there.
So while Feuilly is disappointed and betrayed, Combeferre is merely grave and unsurprised, because he knew all along that they would be alone, and something about that sort of breaks my heart a bit.
Both on stage and in film, there are three fundamental things which can either establish a character as memorable for the audience or leave them in obscurity. The first two of these are writing and acting, which often end up going hand in hand, but the third, costuming, is arguably just as important. It is costuming, in combination with acting and writing, which in the recent film adaptation of The Hobbit, created thirteen distinct characters from what could have been a shapeless mass of dwarves. In this same way, the costume designers for Tom Hooper’s adaptation of Les Misérables were able to create distinct looks for each of the barricade boys, and as a result, even new fans can distinguish them from one another and develop ideas about them based on how their personalities are expressed in things as subtle as the colour schemes of their clothing. How did they do this? Let’s take a look!
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How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Trust the Actor
Wednesday, 26 December 2018 01:50I feel like the first thing I should do when writing this little editorial is to apologise to the majority of you who have mentioned being eager to read it, as it’s going to be less analytical than a personal reflection on the nature of the relationship between an actor and the character they play, and what that means in relation to writing.
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What’s in a Name? Worknames in John Le Carré’s Karla Trilogy
Wednesday, 26 December 2018 01:41Warning!: This article contains major plot spoilers for Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and mild spoilers for The Honourable Schoolboy and Smiley’s People. If you wish to remain unspoiled, then I advise that you skip this article.
————-
John Le Carré’s work is known, perhaps more than anything, for the way in which details are used to tell the story contained within the novel - no detail is wasted, and nearly everything, no matter how obscure, goes towards the end of giving the reader insight into the story, or the characters who reside within it. One such detail is the use of what is known within the Circus as the workname. Within Le Carré’s work, and specifically in this instance, within the Karla Trilogy (Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, The Honourable Schoolboy, and Smiley’s People), the Circus tradition of the workname provides a double function, both in the sense that the workname conveys information about the agent who bears it and in the sense that there is a very deliberate order and reasoning to which worknames the reader learns and when they learn them.
In order to understand Le Carré’s use of worknames as a device within his novels, it is essential that the reader understand the operational function of the workname. While it is easy to conflate an agent’s workname with an alias, what evidence can be pulled from the novels suggests that they are similar but not at all synonymous. Unlike an alias, which may be used in any number of ways (and any given agent may have a large number of them), the workname has a small number of prescribed uses. The first of these, as seen in all three novels, is for the sake of record-keeping. The Circus keeps an extensive database of worknames associated agents both in-action and retired (Smiley’s People 62), and when an agent is mentioned in files, reports, and other such documents, they are commonly referred to by their workname (Tinker, Tailor 78, 90). In addition, an agent will generally - in the field at least, use their workname with other agents, particularly if there is a fear of wire-tapping or other forms of surveillance (The Honourable Schoolboy 518). However, with more casual informants, the agent will generally use an alias rather than their workname, which is more closely guarded.
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- bill haydon,
- character analysis,
- connie sachs,
- george smiley,
- jim prideaux,
- john le carre,
- john le carré,
- literary analysis,
- my meta,
- peter guillam,
- sam collins,
- smiley series,
- smiley's people,
- the circus,
- the honourable schoolboy,
- the karla trilogy,
- the secret pilgrim,
- tinker tailor soldier spy,
- toby esterhase,
- ttss,
- worknames
On the Sexuality of Peter Guillam
Wednesday, 26 December 2018 01:33Warning!: This response contains some spoilers for Peter Guillam’s character in both the film and novel versions of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.
As I mentioned before, I was initially sceptical about the switch in Peter’s perceived sexual orientation. This was for several reasons, the biggest of which being that I wanted to know if there would be a point to it - was there a reason, or was it going to be a throw-away trait? Another was that honestly, I felt that it would be a better call to play the character as bisexual, both because I felt it was more logical in regards to the character as well as because honestly there’s a massive lack of well-done bisexual characters in film (that said, we do have Bill, and he is absolutely lovely).
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Sherlock Character Studies
Wednesday, 26 December 2018 01:21In the case of many of these, my opinion has shifted, refined, and changed in a variety ways. In the case of some, I still bear the same opinion, but well...the show became what it became.
In either case, rather than crosspost these posts yet again, I'm going to collect them here with their original post dates, the Tumblr link, and the Wordpress link, in case anyone wants to read them, though again, they're not great, and one in particular is like....I would reword like 99% of what I was trying to say.
Anyway, here they are:
- Irene Adler [originally posted 3 January 2012]; Tumblr link; Wordpress link
- John Watson [originally posted 4 January 2012]; Tumblr link; Wordpress link
- Molly Hooper [originally posted 6 January 2012]; Tumblr link; Wordpress link
- Mycroft Holmes [originally posted 13 January 2012]; Tumblr link; Wordpress link
Sleeplessness and the Raptor Brain
Tuesday, 25 December 2018 22:26Fandom: Animorphs
Rating: G
Setting: Post-War
Characters: Ket Halpak, Tobias
Word Count: 444
General Summary: As has become a frequent reality for him, Tobias has been having trouble sleeping, but even he can't go without sleep forever - especially he can't.
Author’s Note: This particular piece was written over a year ago and is dedicated to my friend Sylvs for their birthday and as one of our been-around-for-ages fandoms in common is Animorphs, and we both adore Tobias, I wrote something with him even though I’d never written Animorphs fic at all before.
Tobias wakes up like clockwork at one in the morning out of habit. It’s deep winter, the coldest it’s been in years, and he’s not as resilient as he used to be so he’s resigned himself to abandoning his tree at night and taking refuge in the New Barn. The New Barn, wasn’t a barn at all, really, but a part of a wildlife rehabilitation facility that Cassie had built on the fringes of the Hork-Bajir settlement at Yellowstone. It’s safe and secure, and more importantly, it’s climate controlled, but old habits are hard to break, and he finds himself jolting awake as the hands on the clock click over from one hour to the next, his eyes quickly adjusting to the twilight produced by the emergency lights glowing in the darkness.
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