Brain reboot memes?

[magibrain]

My brain seems to have completely shut down for working on any sort of complete creative work. (Thanks, brain.) In an effort to try to get it doing something, I'm doing a snippet meme. So, if you care to, please:

1) Comment with the premise of a fic I would never write, or
2) Comment with the premise of a fic you wish I would write.

I will attempt to write a snippet of that fic. Probably not anything so formal as a drabble; just whatever bit first comes to mind.

For this experiment, let's say that anything goes. Request slash, request het, request smut, just be advised that I will probably find hilariously contrived ways of not actually writing romantic or sexy times.

White Collar, SG-1, original... hell, request fandoms for which I wrote back in antiquity (Final Fantasy VIII, Space: Above and Beyond), request fandoms I've fallen out of writing (Doctor Who, Torchwood, Life on Mars), request fandoms where I'm familiar enough with the canon to write something but never seem to write anything for for one reason or another (Alphas, Avatar: The Last Airbender) request fandoms where I have absolutely no grasp on how to write any of the characters or confidence to write them well and so the snippet I'd produce would probably be bizarre and OOC (MCU Captain America, Orphan Black, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Black Butler, Welcome to Night Vale, Dangan Ronpa). Chaos will ensue.

I'll try to write as many as I'm able to.

Comments

[thelinesoflearning]

I have no idea what you would never write, so let me offer a random premise I feel like it would be interesting to see you write instead:

White Collar/Welcome to Night Vale: Someone in the WC cast hails from Night Vale originally. It's not who you'd expect.

[magibrain]

Ooh!

...and then I spent a while trying to figure out who would be the least likely to come from Night Vale, and trying to decide if their least-likeliness would somehow rocket them back up into likelihood. Though: clearly it's not Neal or Mozzie (because they're the ones with the shadowy pasts and most of the narrative shiny), clearly it can't be Peter or Diana (because they're my go-to characters when I want to add narrative shiny in and not give it to Neal), so we'll just say those guys comprise the core of people you'd expect.

So let's go with Christie.

Snippets!

Diana gets the landlord in their new apartment to install a safe in the place before they sign the lease.

>

but the FBI is neither vague nor menacing.

>

She knows the secrets: none of the clocks are real and no lock is real, either; safes are only safe from heartbreak and themselves, not from prying fingers or searching eyes. A door which doesn't open is no door at all.

Christie knows a lot of secrets. Tucked in her money clip, along with the wad of ones for the vending machines in the hospital, are three full Alert Citizen cards, and the mandatory right to disappear forever.

Past the sandwastes and the apocryphal mountains. Out from the gazes of angels and the shadows of helicopters. All the way out here to the coast.

New York is less like the desert than even DC.

>

More charm than is probably good for him, Diana liked to say. But charm for Christie is Diana's dark skin and perfect hair; is the memory of a voice like a coil of sail rope, tying down the skies.

Inside the safe is a music box; a curious and pedestrian treasure. But when Christie tips the lid open, it plays a song that reminds her of the weather in the desert, on a day when the whole horizon winked lazily before her.

[thelinesoflearning]

Ohhhh. I know it's just snippets but damn, I really do like them. Especially this: Christie knows a lot of secrets. Tucked in her money clip, along with the wad of ones for the vending machines in the hospital, are three full Alert Citizen cards, and the mandatory right to disappear forever.

And yeah, Mozzie was my original thought for most obvious, Peter for so unobvious it becomes obvious again. I was going to ask for someone specifically but I thought it would be itneresting to see who you'd choose, and it definitely was.



Here, have other prompt offerings. Obviously you don't have to do them, but hopefully something will job your brain:

Life on Mars: Zombie apocalypse
Welcome to Night Vale: Something about Dana in the Dog Park
White Collar: Diana and Elizabeth bonding
Captain America/White Collar: Peter and Captain America. (Or alternately I would love to see some of Mozzie's conspiracy theories in a world with supersoldiers)

[magibrain]

Life on Mars:

Sam's life has officially turned into a Simon Pegg movie, he thinks, because it's taken entirely too long for him to notice that there's a bloody zombie apocalypse going on outside. To be fair, he's got used to the walls in this place being so thin that there's nothing of his neighbors left to the imagination. Moaning and yelling is just something he's got used to ignoring in the morning.

At least he realized what was happening before he was out of the building.

...clearly, soon after, Gene calls to berate Sam for not being at CID, and and Sam points out that the bloody dead have risen, and Gene tells him he's dealt with worse after a CID pub night, and insults Sam's masculinity.

[magibrain]

Dana in the Dog Park:

She can see Night Vale past the fence, but it's never the right Night Vale. It's always mirrored or out of order or hanging upside-down, suspended from the sky by golden threads.

(In a few weeks, the fence will be black walls, and there'll be nothing familiar beyond them at all. She doesn't know that yet. It would help if she did. It'd give her something to hold on to, to tuck away in the corner of her mind that will age it to nostalgia later.)

Sometimes there are dogs howling in the distance. Sometimes there's static. Sometimes the two are indistinguishable.

At one point, she finds a group of hooded figures gathered around a trendy bloodstone picnic altar. Their hoods all turn to face her with the rickety grace of a windmill whose blades are coming undone.

"Excuse me," she says.

They make a spot for her.

On the altar is a banquet of pebbles and empty beer bottles, and the hooded figures take them by the handful and bring them to the regions where unhooded citizens would keep their mouths. Then, sometimes, they fish in their hoods and bring out curiosities, cheap gems like geode, brighter stones like tiger's eye. Dana swallows a pebble. Her body doesn't offer up anything in return.

After a while she takes her leave, and one of the figures brushes her hand with its as she goes. When she's walking again, she checks to make sure her hand's still there.

[thelinesoflearning]

Also I think I am going to yank this if you don't mind.

[magibrain]

Go right ahead!