Alas, I have no gifts for you yet. But then, I haven't gotten gifts for anyone else yet, either. ... It's been one of those years.
As a substitute, I give you the first part of the FicPsych story I'm working on and one more chance to contribute to the flavor of the thing with suggestions for canon characters and the badfics they came from.
~*~
The power snapped out.
Imagine, if you will, that you are standing on a beach somewhere. It doesn't particularly matter what beach. Imagine that the day is calm and that the waves lap gently against the shore. Imagine the soft hissing noise as the water slides back through the sand into the sea. Imagine the silence as the next wave gathers.
The next wave is a tsunami.
In the Department of Fictional Psychology, Suvian voices crashed through the walls with the force of a sonic boom. Even the combined cries of the canon characters couldn't completely cover the insidious suggestions slicing through the air (or arrest the author's arbitrary alliteration).
Head Nurse Suzine forcibly spat out her decaf Bloffee before she could choke on it. The spray drenched the potted fern hanging around the donut table, but completely missed her white skirt. No one quite knew how she managed these things.
Was that necessary? said the fern. Not that I dislike Bloffee, but really.
"No power. No Four-S," Suzine replied. "This is Bad." She put her mug down on the nearest surface and fumbled her way to the supply cabinet. She always made sure the nurses' lounge had an emergency cache of the most popular sedatives, just in case a situation arose that couldn't wait for access to the B-ware, as the heavily-guarded supplies in Unit B were affectionately known. This was definitely one of those situations. After some trial and error with her keyring, she got the cabinet unlocked, and not a moment too soon. As predicted, the nurses came running.
Well, not running, really, as that would have caused them all to fall over themselves in the darkness. It was more of a rapid shuffle. Suzine switched on a penlight from the cabinet and shone it at the doorway, nearly blinding Nurse Elms and Nurse Pablum.
"Oh boy, I'm glad you're here," said Nurse Elms, whose uniform was rather singed. "I don't know what's going on, but if we don't get Raistlin contained immediately—"
Suzine waved Elms silent. "What's his condition?"
"Post-Traumatic Bad Slash Syndrome," said Elms. "He keeps switching between looking for Tanis Half-Elven and being sick, screaming 'oh gods why?!', and trying to blast us with lightning."
"He's praying to Bilius?" remarked Nurse Parwill from behind her.
"Shush, you."
Suzine sighed. "Fine. Take this." She handed Elms a small frying pan from the sedatives cabinet. It was made of aluminum and said "No. 2 – Mild" on the bottom. Beneath that, in a smaller parenthetical note, it said "1d6."
"Thanks!" said Elms, who turned and pushed her way back through the crowd.
"Next?" said Suzine, and Nurse Dewstan stepped up.
"Woobie!Legolas; keeps violently cuddling anyone who gets too close."
"And taking his pants off," added Nurse Pablum.
"And taking his pants off."
Several nurses curled their lips.
"I see," said Suzine. She considered for a moment, then selected something that resembled a small baby bottle with a candy nipple. "Wet the candy bit in his mouth, stick it in the bottle, shake it up, and put it back in his mouth. Repeat until he goes to sleep. I think this one is Dorwinion wine–flavored. Next?"
~*~
I will endeavor to find enough privacy to do some recording over the next couple of weeks. Again, Merry Christmas!
~Neshomeh