Subject: Re: prompt
Author:
Posted on: 2018-02-10 12:27:00 UTC
Very cute! Even in such a short story, these two have such good dynamics. Good seeing Agent Ix in a more positive state of mind, too.
—doctorlit, wandless
Subject: Re: prompt
Author:
Posted on: 2018-02-10 12:27:00 UTC
Very cute! Even in such a short story, these two have such good dynamics. Good seeing Agent Ix in a more positive state of mind, too.
—doctorlit, wandless
Yes I'm back with a new prompt, because, hey, I enjoy doing them, and even if it doesn't get people writing I like to think it at least gets people (including me) thinking. So today's prompt is going to be slightly different, and it is:
'Your characters are training.'
Let's see what we get.
Novastorme
Spoiler Warning: Seasons one and two of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
* * *
Agent Melinda May walked through the corridors with an even stride. Even without looking anyone in the face, she could tell the other agents moving past her were avoiding looking her in the face. Her already flat mouth became ever more pinched. She turned a corner and—
—and halted. The laboratory was almost completely empty, which was unusual in the middle of the day. There was one person inside, an Asian woman with black hair in a ponytail.
May narrowed her eyes. She didn’t recognize the woman. She looked awfully young too. May power-walked straight to the door and went inside.
“You aren’t authorized to be in here.” She stared the strange woman in the face, watching it for minute changes of expression.
The woman looked up. “Oh, Agent May,” she said calmly, looking up and making eye contact with May. “Yes, actually, Agent Simmons asked me to come in and pick up some research data for her.” She looked back down and opened a folder, flipping through papers.
The folder had been closed to start with. Drifting closer, May quietly asked, “Why didn’t Agent Simmons come herself?”
Without looking up this time, the other woman answered, “She was operating some fancy computer program, couldn’t step away. I volunteered to come pick up some files for her. Do you know offhand where the data on Carl Creel’s recovered skin fragments would be?”
“Simmons asked you to get something but didn’t say where it was?” May started slowly up the aisle between work benches that the woman was standing in. “How unlike her.”
There it was. A tiny wince in the woman’s cheek. Lying. “I guess she wasn’t certain where the files were? Someone else may have been—”
“Agent Simmons knows where all her files are.” May’s voice was low, very nearly a growl. “You’re a HYDRA agent, and you’re coming with me. Right. Now.”
The woman stepped back a bit, getting clear of the lab tables that had enclosed her. Fear and confusion played across her face: the confusion forced, but the fear plenty real. “HYDRA? No, I—I’m S.H.I.E.L.D. Look!” She turned her shoulder to May, displaying the eagle logo on her coat.
“Yes, I’ll be confiscating that uniform as well. I’m sure the real agent you took it from will be wanting it back. And you’d better pray that I find them still alive.”
The HYDRA agent made a quick movement towards the aisle on the left.
May crouched down and waited.
Sure enough, the HYDRA agent pivoted quickly on one heel and reversed directions, using the edge of the work table to quickly turn into the aisle on May’s right.
May ducked under the table and rose on the other side in one fluid motion.
The HYDRA member hesitated for a second, then ducked back under the same table May had just gone under.
Two big mistakes. May was close enough now. She grabbed the edge of the desk and swung her legs under diagonally, catching the HYDRA member’s ankles between her own and twisting. The HYDRA agent went down as she tried to come out the other side. Her reflexes were good enough to bend her torso, keeping her face from connecting with the edge of the next table.
May ducked under the table again, grabbing the woman’s right arm as she began crawling forwards. The woman tried to roll to her left to free the arm, but May pushed forwards and pinned it against her back. She then moved her legs over those of the HYDRA agent, pinning her fully to the floor. The woman flailed her left arm and her head a bit, but couldn’t fight back with her range of motion so limited. She spoke up. “All right, she got me. Turn it off.”
May furrowed her brow. She had just enough time to demand “What?” before the Playground laboratory disappeared, and the artificial intelligence of Melinda May vanished along with it.
Agent Vania stood up in the empty holodeck chamber and stretched. “May is just too good. Can’t talk her down, can’t outfight her.”
As Vania exited the room, the DoSAT technician working the controls said, “Good decision, not giving her the Berserker Staff.”
Vania shuddered. “Perish the thought. All right, Doc, you’re up.” She shrugged off the S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform jacket.
Doc looked up from The Tommyknockers, a look of rising horror on his face. “Me?” he squeaked. “But. You’re our combat person. And. I don’t do that. And. And. I’m in a really exciting part right now!”
“Our time block’s almost up. You’re doing the last one. And it’s not about combat; if you do it right, there shouldn’t be any fighting. You talk your way out, just like you would interact with the actual canon on a mission.” She checked that a bookmark was between the pages before closing the book and pushing Doc inside, ignoring the slight hissing sound he was making under his breath.
The technician asked, “He doing May, too?”
Vania made a most curious noise. “No. Oh, no. No, no, no. Lord, no. Give him . . . uh, let me think here . . . Oh! Duh! Give him Fitz.” She balled up the coat and tossed to Doc through the door.
The technician made a face. “The scientist?”
“Baby steps, all right?”
“All right.”
“Uh, but make it during the time when he was suffering from brain damage.”
The technician paused, shrugged, and adjusted the program.
The Playground’s laboratory sprung up around Doc. Agent Leo Fitz was hunched over some files at one of the work tables.
“Uh.” Doc looked down and hurriedly shrugged on the coat.
Agent Fitz looked up when he heard Doc speak. “Um, can I, um,” he muttered. He balled a hand and closed his eyes for a moment. He finally finished, “Do you need something?”
“Uh.” Doc swallowed. “I, um. Agent . . . Simmons! Sent me to pick up some files.
Outside the simulation, Vania facepalmed. “Of course, it doesn’t help that he doesn’t know the canon.”
Fitz’s eyes brightened for just a moment before his brow furrowed again. “Simmons!? Simmons isn’t . . . um. Simmons isn’t . . . Simmons is gone.” He began to rise.
“What? Oh. Sorry, I meant—”
But that was when Fitz hit Doc with a round from an I.C.E.R. gun, and he fell paralyzed to the floor.
Outside, the technician stared. “Yeah, okay. Your partner is really in need of more training.”
Vania sighed. “I’m working on it, all right?”
—doctorlit likes AoS the best out of the entire Marvel Cineverse, personally, and he ships FitzSimmons hard
Seriously, that was a great read. And if you ever write a sequel, I will happily read that, too. Also, just--really nicely done! Both the PPC characters and the AoS characters shone in this.
~Z
I'm semi-thinking of expanding this into a proper interlude someday, but it hasn't quite solidified in my mind yet . . .
AoS is definitely my favorite part of the MCU, simply because we've had so much more time to get to know the characters, compared to the movie folks.
—doctorlit, possible 0-8-4
First I was like "Huh, doc's going for fanfic. Cool."
Then I was like "Nah, there's a twist coming. This is gonna be a PPC agent."
And I was right, and I was happy. And then it kept going, and just got more and more funny, except I felt bad for laughing at Doc and Fitz. What an awkward pair of awkwardness they make! Poor guys. Maybe Doc should try training against, say, Fluttershy?
I'm also slightly concerned about AI!May and how sapient she actually is, but since it's a holodeck program, I guess that question answers itself. Has DoSAT managed to solve the persistent problem of holodeck characters gaining self-awareness, escaping, and running amok, do you think?
... Who am I kidding, the Laws of Comedic Irony say any attempt to solve the problem will just make it worse. {= )
All that is to say I enjoyed this very much, and my only nitpick is that you missed the word "it" in the line "She balled up the coat and tossed [it] to Doc."
~Neshomeh
P.S. FitzSimmons are the most star-crossed couple in the multiverse* and I love them to bits. Damn you, Joss Whedon, for consistently punishing characters who dare to find love!
*This is science.
Gosh. I'm glad you liked it so much! This kind of dashed itself out under my fingers in the couple of hours before bed, so I wasn't really thinking of it as anything particularly good.
I, uh, I haven't actually watched any Star Trek, so I didn't really know how holodecks worked. I definitely didn't realize the characters could escape the hologram generator . . . how does that work, exactly? I'll have to work on that if I ever upload this properly.
But I am glad my story entertained as much as it did!
—doctorlit scared his friend yelling at the monolith after watching a certain season finale of AoS
Because I'm slow and sometimes things have to cook in my head awhile before I can do anything with them.
Prompt: "When will I see you again?"
I love all the little details you drop into the narration. Without having read any Pern yet, it's still clear to me that this scene is taking place in a detailed setting, and not some generic fantasy camp. It gives the sense that I'm looking at a point in a timeline, for all the characters present, and not juts a standalone moment with no context.
Also, very cool to see Derik in his "canon" days, before the eventual badfic settled over him and turned him all Phantomy.
—doctorlit, totally going to start Pern eventually
The Harper Hall is one of the most detailed places in the series. And your mentioning it made me realize I mucked it up—journeymen have their own private dorms. That's what I get for writing quickly and without my references handy. ^_^; Will have to fix that. Fortunately, it's not hard.
The only canon character mentioned is Master Jerint, fyi. The others are my own inventions. Their names are very loosely based on those of various choir directors I've known.
I have enjoyed realizing there's lots of space for me to develop and write canonical!Derik that doesn't at all contradict what happens to him in his badfic. I'm glad you like seeing it, too. Thanks!
~Neshomeh
It took me a few minutes to catch up to the 'right, that's *Derik*' realization (it's been a while since I read anything Pern, so I very much needed the note at the end to get me thinking in the right direction about Dragonrider name changes), but...yeah, that was a fun read. :) Also kind of sad, in a way--I don't think we've *ever* seen him that happy or excited in his adult life. For good reason, of course, but the contrast makes for a bit of creeping sadness in this scene.
All in all, nicely done. The dialogue was good, and the characters have enough detail that they feel like people we just haven't seen much of yet, rather than cardboard cutouts differentiated mainly by name. It's also just pleasant writing to read, as is pretty much anything of yours I've ever read.
...I *am* wondering what Ezerik's *first*-best instrument is, though. And who made it...
~Z
That's his voice, of course. Who made it is debatable, but Master Shonagar certainly had a hand in fine-tuning it. {= )
I'm glad you got that emotional dissonance, because the contrast between how Ezerik was as a youth and how Derik is now is something I really wanted to show with this. Some things are more or less the same—he's always been a bit headstrong, always protected people, always been a natural-born leader—but all the luck did end up being all the worst luck.
Glad you liked it, and thanks!
~Neshomeh
Well, I enjoyed this a lot. I mean, I don't know Pern at all, so I don't think I fully understand it, but I did enjoy it.
Not really much else to say. Don't have any real criticism at the moment. Sorry...
Anyways, the one other funny thing is the entirely unintentional parallels between this response and my own response to it, something Nesh pointed out long before this response was published (heck, it might have been before MY response was published), which I forgot, and then rediscovered when I read this and realized that yeah, the parallels were there. I think it's partly that this prompt just generally pushes in the direction both Nesh and I went, and also that some parallels existed in the lives and histories of Thoth and Derik (honestly, these tropes are really common. I think the main reason I picked up in it here is that Derik is a character I know better than most of the others involved in prompt responses). I dunno. But I found it amusing nonetheless. Moreso for the kind of odd friendship that seems to be forming between the two.
Your response to this prompt is what pushed me into really thinking about what Derik's honorable selection into his elite fighting force was like, but yeah, the basics were going to be the same no matter what. And it's still fun. ^_^ One similar detail that's just a straight-up coincidence is the "older than most" thing. Thoth had to be older because of his relationship with Erek; I always knew Derik was older because he had to be a journeyman harper first. Per his story of getting Threadscarred in the Halloween RP, I knew he was 19 then, which placed him at 18 when he was Searched.
The rest came from thinking about who he is at heart, under all the damage.
~Neshomeh
The man who was Kannan, in a real sense, doesn't exist anymore. There are fragments of him, but circumstances made Thoth a different man, if he is a man at all (I like to think that he is, even if he doesn't, but that's getting into understandings of what the Astartes are and I am already wandering pretty far afield, here...). Heck, Kannan would probably be horrified by Thoth as he is now.
This is, I think, where the big differences come in. Erik was always, fundamentally, on the side of good. 40k... doesn't really have good, not exactly. Even 30k's pretty iffy. And... well, to quote the Ahriman trilogy, "We are falling, and light is but a memory."
However, setting effects people. And the PPC is bringing to light aspects of Thoth that haven't been allowed to surface for millenia. Which is probably odd for him, and the fact that he's incredibly far outside his native context doesn't help. He may regain some semblance of what he lost.
What can I say? I like happy endings. And I also am not a fan of any setup that doesn't allow for the odd bit of straight-up Fun.
Duck left. Shotgun, machinegun, grendade… Dead again. Restart. Okay, this time right, grenade first...
Thoth walked in. Tom closed the program. “Hey, Thoth! Where’ya been? I’ve just been… ahh… training. In a combat simulation.”
“In fact,” said Thoth, “I have been training as well. After my failure in our prior mission, I have been practicing my mental focus. And I have an initiate to train.”
“You mean Derik?” Tom laughed. “Seriously, what are you two, married?”
“It takes dedication to truly develop through training. I must keep my skills sharp, and Derik has made significant progress,” said Thoth coldly. He wasn’t even going to dignify Tom’s jab with a response.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Tom, grinning. “Anyways, what were you doing?”
“Aside from focusing the mind developing my psychic talents, as well as training my initiate in the same, I have a strict exercise regimen, and practice daily with both long-range and melee weapons. It is important to keep my skills in place.”
Tom shrugged. “Well, I did some experimental work on trying to get demons to do even more work for me, and then decided to do a bit of reflex and combat training in a simulator.”
Thoth walked behind Tom, to get a better angle on what he’d been doing. “Yes,” he said, his voice utterly serious. “I am certain that this ‘Half-Life’ is an excellent combat simulator.”
“It is!” replied Tom, indignantly.
“Well, then. Perhaps you should face me. Test your simulator-developed skills in the real world.”
Tom paused for a moment. “Thoth?”
“Yes.”
“Not another word.”
--
((PPC's not mine, Warhammer and Laundry Files aren't mine you know the drill, Thoth and Tom are mine, Derik belongs to Nesh, who said I could use him.))
Not much to say.
Also, Half-Life is such a great and realistic combat simulator.
- Tomash
My favorite part of this is that first paragraph. The run-on sentences, with the chains of commas, work well to show that we're seeing Tom's thought process in regards to the actions he's taking in the game, before the more proper sentences of the next paragraph take over again to express actual, physical action. Even though Tom isn't speaking that paragraph out loud, I feel it also works as a stylistic counterpoint to the way Thoth describes his training later, with much more detail and more formal sentence structure.
Nitpicks: Half-Life should be italicized. Also, "grendade."
—doctorlit, always with the nitpicks, though
I think Thoth is probably being generous with that "significant progress" comment. How sweet. ^_^
Tom should probably not keep poking that spot with that stick, though. Seems like the sort of thing where once too many, however many that may be, could get dangerous.
My particular interests aside, I like how this shows the relationship between your two agents. They are clearly very different people, and it results in friction, but it seems like a more or less healthy friction, with each giving as good as he gets and keeping the other honest.
I think the bit where Thoth challenges Tom to try his skills in "the real world" is particularly funny coming on the heels of that response you wrote to my musings on metafictional reality. Dunno if that was intentional, but it doesn't really matter. *g*
~Neshomeh
Yeah... Honestly, this was fun to write, even if the punchline (Tom wasn't actually training) wasn't that great.
And yeah, Tom poking there is a really bad idea. But he has no clue what he's doing. He can be a... bit of a child.
Anyways, I'm glad at least one other person likes it.
"So, we've got a new player this evening, everyone. This is Cassie, she's a DMS agent, and I'd like to welcome her to the Coterie of Light. Say hi!"
A chorus of muted "Hi"s greeted Cass as she shuffled her feet. Her hair hung down over her face like the shutters on a corner shop, and after a few moments of immense internal struggle, she said hi back.
"Doctor Peep, is she here because of what happened with Bill?"
"Well, Gabrielle, that entirely depends on how much you enjoyed playing in a party with Supreme Commander Murdertron, Chief Eye-Gouger of the Army of Extra Deadly Death."
"Welcomewelcomewelcome! Come sit next to me! Would you like some snacks? My partner made everybody snacks. He's kinda like that."
"Um." Cassie said. Then "Thank you." Then "I'm sorry, but how are you allowed to be that fluffy?"
"Aw! Thank you! I'm a Flareon is why, but it's also because people brush me and snuggle me when I'm on the wards. I'm a therapy Pokemon with the MPND Clinic, but Doctor Peep is my therapist too!"
Gabrielle beamed. Cassie nodded back, her eyes a little wide. "Er. Okay. That's... nice?"
"So who are you playing? I'm the cleric, because making people not hurt any more is awesome!"
"Um. Valiant Cavalier. It's a paladin subclass. More, um, hitty. And his name's Thorin. And he has a bear. Doctor Peep said it would be okay?"
"Thank heavens, an actual tank," piped up Eloise. "I'm sick of getting slapped about because Bill thinks it's funny to watch the wizard get into close combat."
---
It took a few minutes to get everyone settled in, but eventually the group was all set. It was a motley assortment, and Cass was the only human at the table; T'viq was a Reman, Eloise was a drider, Sugi was a bonsai Ent, and the DM, Doctor Peep, was a six-foot animatronic duck. The campaign, Gabrielle explained, had been going on for some time, mostly in spite of a recovering Gary Stu called Bill who was a total edgelord and kept trying to screw things up for the party. Before Gabrielle could go any further on why Bill was a complete butt, Doctor Peep loudly announced the setting.
"After the tragic death of Supreme Commander Murdertron, your characters have returned to the manor at Thandallyn to train and generally relax. A few months have passed without incident... until now. A mysterious stranger is at the gates of the house."
"I go to the window and try to get a look at them," said T'viq. "Such work is suited well for elven eyes, especially those of a ranger. Plus I'm just generally a bit nosy."
"Okay, roll me perception."
Clatter.
"Smeg."
"Astarael, you gaze long and hard, and form a really excellent and in-depth mental picture of the wall you're staring at. Is anyone else doing anything?"
"Oh! Sure!" Gabrielle smiled. "I'll go down to the gate. And bring pie. Everybody loves pie."
A chorus of laughs around the table. Cass sagged a bit, stayed quiet.
"Okay then, Drake. You go out to the gate and see a heavily armoured figure on the back of a cave bear. The rider is even shorter than you are, which is saying something for a halfling."
"Ho there, stranger!" Gabrielle cried in as manly a voice as a fluffy red bunny could manage. "What brings thee to Ascalon?"
There was silence for a bit, then Cass spoke. "Er. Dwarven business! Yes. Definitely. Nothing to do with anything gobliny or stuff like that. My name is Thorin of the Green Beard, and I seek audience with noble heroes who mayst use the service of a strong and righteous sword arm! Verily, 'tis a fine time to be a dwarf of my lineage, and definitely not a day to be a goblin in some scrounged up armour with a load of cave moss glued to his face, why would you even assume such a person would be here?"
There was a very long pause.
"Cassie, is Thorin a goblin pretending to be a dwarf?" Doctor Peep asked.
"What possible reason could you have to suspect such a thing of the noble Thorin Greenbeard, dwarf adventurer and in no way a goblin whose face is covered in lichen that's really itchy underneath this plate mail?"
"... You're going to fit riiiiiiiiiight in around here."
Cassie smiled, and believed her.
I never had a campaign quite like this—most of the funniest stories came from other people's games; Phobos has some great ones—but still. I would hang out with these people, and occasionally bring the Oreos. {= )
~Neshomeh
I just find it amusing that all these fantasy creatures would gather together and play 4E D&D as DMed by an animatronic from the FNAF games. In point of fact, I've actually statted up Thorin - goblins make surprisingly okay paladins - and am using him as part of the B Squad, which is my backup characters in the 4E game I'm playing at the moment. There's Thorin "Definitely Not A Goblin" Greenbeard (goblin Valiant Cavalier), Astarael Meadowclear (transgender hobgoblin ranger), and Cedric the Suicidal Skeleton (eladrin Iron Soul monk who just so happens to be an skellington, on account of being dead for the past nine hundred years). This is to go with my main character, Geraldine Snodgrass (shardmind barbarian obsessed with pulp fantasy novels).
Games with me in them tend to be slightly odd, is what I'm driving at here. =]
Just ... yeah. That was funny, and not all that unrealistic either, I'd say (aside from the floffiness of the various players).
- Tomash
Heeeeeee! This is fun! The mix of characters both playing the game, and the players they've chosen to play. The idea of a reforming Sue who couldn't play without derailing the plot is great and realistic.
Good to see Gabrielle feeling more confident, too, and finding work to help others to boot!
—doctorlit, very briefly an elf bard
Harris was strewn across the leather couch. There he lay, in front of the T.V., and behind the coffee table. Another episode of "Friends" was about to autoplay.
"Alexa, how many seasons of 'Friends' are there?"
The home robot that he'd recently purchased lit up, and cheerily responded that there were 10 seasons in total, and 236 episodes total.
Harris groaned and harrumphed as the title sequence played. Episode 4, Season 2.
He was in no mood to get up and simply pick up the remote, and watch something more interesting, but on the other hand it was getting close to four in the morning, and he had to sleep some time.
And so, he sat up straight, and began to focus. Channeling his inner energies. Attempting to straighten out and clear his mind. Closing his two eyes, and attempted to open his metaphorical third.
With a sudden burst of movement, he struck his hand out open-palmed, towards the remote.
No dice.
Too much energy spent, he opted for lying back down, and shoving a pillow over his head.
Somewhere, deep down he remembered something very vital to him. Something extraordinarily important that he had done. Something of great power and use to him, in times of great need such as this. He spent a minute, exercising his mind, working his poor brain as hard as he could.
He had hooked up Alexa to his T.V.
"Alexa, turn off the T.V."
"I'm sorry, I could not understand your request."
Harris decidedly moved the pillow off of his face, and repeated once more.
"Turning off the T.V."
And with that victory, Harris decided that he had some hard-earned sleep to take advantage of, and drifted off.
A character study in laziness and irresponsibility. I think this Harris fellow may be my opposite! We'd best never touch, as it would be a reaction like dark matter touching solid material.
—remote controls are good enough for doctorlit
Ix pointed her finger at the candle in front of her, eyebrows drawn together as she focused. Charlotte yawned, swinging her legs from her perch on the countertop.
"You wanna watch a movie or something?"
Ix nodded with her chin towards the console, not taking her eyes off the candle. "You go ahead if you want. I'm practicing."
"Fwai, you've been 'practicing' for the last half hour."
"I know," Ix said, frowning at the still-unlit wick. "But I've never done wandless magic before, you can't expect me to get this right away."
Charlotte sighed and hopped off the counter, wandering over to their DVD shelves to browse titles.
Ix consulted her book briefly before leaning in, jabbing her finger at the candle. "Incendio!"
For the briefest of moments, she could have sworn she saw a faint wisp of smoke rising up, but she decided it must have been her imagination when nothing more came of it.
"Iiix," Charlotte sang, holding up a case. "How about Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Your faaavorite!"
"You watch without me."
Charlotte sighed and turned back to the shelves.
She was just pulling their copy of Pride and Prejudice out of its case when Ix tapped her on the shoulder. She was beaming from ear to ear as she held up the flickering candle.
"You did it?!" Charlotte asked, her eyes huge.
Ix laughed. "No, I used a match. C'mon, let's just watch that movie. I need a break."
I liked this, generally. The Ix/Charlotte interaction was nice.
My one item of concrit is that I could've used a bit of Ix's thought process when she decided to take a break and watch the movie. The emotional switch felt rather sudden.
- Tomash
Very cute! Even in such a short story, these two have such good dynamics. Good seeing Agent Ix in a more positive state of mind, too.
—doctorlit, wandless