40fandoms: Fandoms 1-3
Mar. 12th, 2014 05:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tallulahgs[Title] Logic Gate
[Fandom] Portal
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Doug Rattmann finds his own arrows.
Once, he turned a corner and came upon one of his own arrows, scrawled wobbly red on the wall, and he should have known but his heart kicked and he thought someone else - someone else here -
He worked it out the next moment, of course (although he wonders how he would tell if he were wrong. Why does he think logic and observation are things he can still rely on? All they've done is get hundreds of people killed). He worked it out and he actually shook his head and smiled like you do when you trip in public, put on a show for the bystanders to pretend you're a competent adult really. It wasn't for the bystanders, who are dead or painted or hallucinated and wouldn't care either way. It was because a smile should cancel out the sudden sting of tears. It doesn't, but that's logic for you. Flawed when it matters.
[Title] Circuits
[Fandom] Blake's 7
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Vila doesn't see why everyone's so surprised about his reading habits. Credit due tostill_lycoris, who encouraged/came up with the central idea of this.
Still haven't seen all of this show, so apologies for any canon errors.
Vila'd be the first to admit he doesn't come across as much of a reader, but a man could be hurt by the flagrant disbelief shown every time someone discovers his library. Although if they thought about it – because mostly people don't think about it, about him and the things he does – they'd work it out. Why he scrounges paper copies of books rather than having everything on a screen, anyway, because it's the same as why he picks up other things that come his way. Because he can, because they become his (for a short time, anyway), because they're things he can hold in his hand that become memories of a time or place or person. Stuff on screens lights up and fades away and it's as if it was never there.
Of course they flick through the books and they say – well, if they're Avon, they say surely even you can't actually enjoy writing as terrible as this? Well, if you can call it writing and if they're Jenna they laugh and read out some of the more dramatic titles and if they're Blake they just look baffled. (Whatever you need to be the leader of the revolution, an in-depth knowledge of I Was A Teenage Dope-Fiend and Rock-n-Roll Gal isn't part of it).
Actually Gan and Cally hadn't seemed puzzled at all. Well, to Cally it must've been no weirder than anything else they do, and perhaps Gan knew that you looked for what you could in life and if that was yellowed old books about pre-atomic teenagers hallucinating on marijuana, then that was that.
Because Vila's not as much of an idiot as they think. He knows the books are stupid. Come on, he actually was a delinquent teenager, and there was a lot less kissing and rock'n'roll music (however that's meant to sound) and a lot more beatings and scrounging food when people's backs were turned. But it's like looking into... circuitry or something, a lock system. Bright colours all linked up and everything joined together and only making sense in that one lock. It's peaceful. (And reading about a girl taking her shirt off is better, on this ship, than asking the sentient computer to find you a video of her doing it. Zen does not need to know what kind of girls you like looking at. He'd probably drop it into conversation the next day, because that's the kind of unreliable bastard thing he'd do.)
Much later, when the Liberator goes up in smoke, Vila knows he should have bigger things to be sad about than the death of a lot of old books. But he does feel sad, though. Just a little.
[Title] Real World
[Fandom] Lewis
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Another successful conclusion to a case.
“How'd you figure it out?” Lewis says, as they make their way through Broad Street. The sun's just starting to set, and the packs of cyclists and students are fading away. There's a pub at the end of the street and he's owed a pint after all the corpses today.
Hathaway gives him that blank innocent face Lewis suspects he just puts on out of habit. “Sir?”
“You knew it wasn't her who'd done it. You knew she was shielding the other girl. What tipped you off?”
“She said she'd shot Professor Sanderson with a bow and arrow from the window of the flat above the bookshop,” Hathaway says. “But the bow we found wouldn't have had anything like that reach. And she wouldn't have known that, because her story about being on the archery team at school was a lie.”
“But you did know that?”
“I was on the archery team,” Hathaway says, shoving his hands in his pockets and tilting his head a little, ostensibly to admire the fading sunlight on the windows and old stone. “College. For two years.”
Lewis finds himself grinning. “Of course you were.”
“I was told it would be of little to no practical application in the real world.”
“Yes, well, this is Oxford. I'm not quite sure it is the real world.” He doesn't say I'm not sure you are, either, to be honest, or makes you a lot more useful than I thought it would. He thinks Hathaway probably knows.
[Fandom] Portal
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Doug Rattmann finds his own arrows.
Once, he turned a corner and came upon one of his own arrows, scrawled wobbly red on the wall, and he should have known but his heart kicked and he thought someone else - someone else here -
He worked it out the next moment, of course (although he wonders how he would tell if he were wrong. Why does he think logic and observation are things he can still rely on? All they've done is get hundreds of people killed). He worked it out and he actually shook his head and smiled like you do when you trip in public, put on a show for the bystanders to pretend you're a competent adult really. It wasn't for the bystanders, who are dead or painted or hallucinated and wouldn't care either way. It was because a smile should cancel out the sudden sting of tears. It doesn't, but that's logic for you. Flawed when it matters.
[Title] Circuits
[Fandom] Blake's 7
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Vila doesn't see why everyone's so surprised about his reading habits. Credit due to
still_lycoris, who encouraged/came up with the central idea of this.Still haven't seen all of this show, so apologies for any canon errors.
Vila'd be the first to admit he doesn't come across as much of a reader, but a man could be hurt by the flagrant disbelief shown every time someone discovers his library. Although if they thought about it – because mostly people don't think about it, about him and the things he does – they'd work it out. Why he scrounges paper copies of books rather than having everything on a screen, anyway, because it's the same as why he picks up other things that come his way. Because he can, because they become his (for a short time, anyway), because they're things he can hold in his hand that become memories of a time or place or person. Stuff on screens lights up and fades away and it's as if it was never there.
Of course they flick through the books and they say – well, if they're Avon, they say surely even you can't actually enjoy writing as terrible as this? Well, if you can call it writing and if they're Jenna they laugh and read out some of the more dramatic titles and if they're Blake they just look baffled. (Whatever you need to be the leader of the revolution, an in-depth knowledge of I Was A Teenage Dope-Fiend and Rock-n-Roll Gal isn't part of it).
Actually Gan and Cally hadn't seemed puzzled at all. Well, to Cally it must've been no weirder than anything else they do, and perhaps Gan knew that you looked for what you could in life and if that was yellowed old books about pre-atomic teenagers hallucinating on marijuana, then that was that.
Because Vila's not as much of an idiot as they think. He knows the books are stupid. Come on, he actually was a delinquent teenager, and there was a lot less kissing and rock'n'roll music (however that's meant to sound) and a lot more beatings and scrounging food when people's backs were turned. But it's like looking into... circuitry or something, a lock system. Bright colours all linked up and everything joined together and only making sense in that one lock. It's peaceful. (And reading about a girl taking her shirt off is better, on this ship, than asking the sentient computer to find you a video of her doing it. Zen does not need to know what kind of girls you like looking at. He'd probably drop it into conversation the next day, because that's the kind of unreliable bastard thing he'd do.)
Much later, when the Liberator goes up in smoke, Vila knows he should have bigger things to be sad about than the death of a lot of old books. But he does feel sad, though. Just a little.
[Title] Real World
[Fandom] Lewis
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Another successful conclusion to a case.
“How'd you figure it out?” Lewis says, as they make their way through Broad Street. The sun's just starting to set, and the packs of cyclists and students are fading away. There's a pub at the end of the street and he's owed a pint after all the corpses today.
Hathaway gives him that blank innocent face Lewis suspects he just puts on out of habit. “Sir?”
“You knew it wasn't her who'd done it. You knew she was shielding the other girl. What tipped you off?”
“She said she'd shot Professor Sanderson with a bow and arrow from the window of the flat above the bookshop,” Hathaway says. “But the bow we found wouldn't have had anything like that reach. And she wouldn't have known that, because her story about being on the archery team at school was a lie.”
“But you did know that?”
“I was on the archery team,” Hathaway says, shoving his hands in his pockets and tilting his head a little, ostensibly to admire the fading sunlight on the windows and old stone. “College. For two years.”
Lewis finds himself grinning. “Of course you were.”
“I was told it would be of little to no practical application in the real world.”
“Yes, well, this is Oxford. I'm not quite sure it is the real world.” He doesn't say I'm not sure you are, either, to be honest, or makes you a lot more useful than I thought it would. He thinks Hathaway probably knows.
