I'm bored and frustrated
Mar. 7th, 2013 07:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
minutia_rSend me the names of two characters and a topic of conversation and I will write the conversation that those characters have on that topic.
(Characters don’t have to be from the same canon but I do have to be familiar with them. No RPF.)
ETA in case you stumble on this entry late: Not taking more prompts until further notice.
(Characters don’t have to be from the same canon but I do have to be familiar with them. No RPF.)
ETA in case you stumble on this entry late: Not taking more prompts until further notice.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2013-03-07 06:58 pm (UTC)(AU situations welcome)
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Date: 2013-03-07 10:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 02:37 am (UTC)(I did think of suggesting Aral and the Ghost of Dorca Vorbarra)
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Date: 2013-03-08 02:42 am (UTC)This bit me harder than I expected, I guess. Standard Serg warnings apply.
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Date: 2013-03-07 10:14 pm (UTC);)
eta; I know Babi doesn't talk much,but when did that ever stop Pyetr- or Babi, for that matter?
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Date: 2013-03-08 03:12 am (UTC)Babi sloshed the jug at him meaningfully--the never-empty jug, that Sasha had bespelled on an impulse. Pyetr reclaimed the jug and took a drink.
“We’re still going to need more vodka,” he said. “There’s not enough vodka in the infinite possibilities of the universe.”
Pyetr had never said things like “the infinite possibilities of the universe” back in Vojvoda, before Sasha. He wished he were back in Vojvoda right now. The wish formed idly in his mind and disappeared harmlessly from it the next moment, thank all the gods he didn’t believe in.
Babi reached out a shaggy hand for the jug in what Pyetr could only interpret as agreement.
The more dangerous sort of wishes were rolling off the house like fog off the river; even Pyetr could feel them. Eveshka’s, fearsomely powerful and tightly leashed--Pyetr couldn’t guess their content, but they set his teeth on edge. And the Mouse’s, childish and achingly open.
I wish you were dead. I wish you were on the moon. I wish you loved me.
And then a sudden blast from Eveshka, wishing the Mouse gone, and the Mouse herself running out of the house, sobbing. Pyetr passed the jug hastily to Babi and gathered her into his lap.
“Oh, Mouse,” he said into her hair. “It’s all right.”
--
I'm going to try to get some more sleep now; I'll get to the rest of them later.
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Date: 2013-03-07 10:27 pm (UTC)(or) Ivan and Byerly Vorrutyer:
Vorkosigan liveried butter bugs ALL OVER Vorbarr Sultana
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Date: 2013-03-08 03:55 am (UTC)--
"Oh God, can you imagine it?" said Ivan. "Ivan, be a dear and deal with that annoying creature, will you?"
"Your problem--" said By.
"Is that I'm too obliging, I know," said Ivan.
"No, it's that you're too competent," said By. "I am always obliging. But you'd be surprised how few people ask me for favors, after that little incident with Cousin Dono."
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Date: 2013-03-08 12:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 02:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 05:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-10 05:41 pm (UTC)--
“So now,” concluded Elizabeth, throwing her hands up in despair, “not only are Antonio and Old Niccolo still quarreling, but Gina and Maria won’t talk to each other either, and everybody is avoiding Uncle Umberto. Am I marrying into a family of people who never back down?”
“There are advantages to that,” said Mordecai. “At least you know Antonio will never turn loose of you.”
“That’s true.” Elizabeth smiled a brief, private smile. “But the worst part is that everyone thinks I’m the reasonable one. Which is completely accurate! But they all think it means that I’m on their side.”
“Well.” Mordecai didn’t meet Elizabeth’s eye; his look was inward, thoughtful. “There are advantages to that, too. You don’t need to quarrel with anyone. Everyone likes you. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“It’s awful,” said Elizabeth. “They say the most horrible things and expect me to agree with them. And I feel like I’m lying, even when I’m not.”
“I think you have good instincts,” said Mordecai. “You’ll figure it out.”
“Oh! You’re worse than Gabriel! Aren’t you going to tell me what I should do?”
“Not me,” said Mordecai.
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Date: 2013-03-11 01:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-11 02:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 02:54 am (UTC)(Entry tag is excellent, by the way.)
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Date: 2013-03-08 03:46 am (UTC)"Enjoy them," said Ari. "What else?"
A flicker of anger escaped Cordelia's calm facade. "My son is not a toy."
"You just met Mark two weeks ago. In what sense is he your son? Because he's got some of your genes? Half the azi in Union space have my genes in them, and you don't see me squawking like an outraged chicken about it. Of course he's a toy, sweet. You and I just like different games, that's all."
--
I'm not 100% sure what's going on in this universe, but I think Mark was made by Reseune rather than Bharaputra.
Also, you're going to have to imagine Bothari and Catlin exchanging death glares in the background.
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Date: 2013-03-09 12:32 pm (UTC)It's never occurred to me before, but Catlin and Bothari are quite well matched in the competence and loyalty department, at least, adjustedness another question.
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Date: 2013-03-09 05:39 pm (UTC)But I do agree about Bothari and Catlin; the society that Catlin is adjusted *to* is fairly screwed up, but they do know how to Adjust, in Union, far better than on Barrayar.
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Date: 2013-03-10 01:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-10 05:44 pm (UTC)(Not doing it you can't make me.)
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Date: 2013-03-11 08:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 01:10 pm (UTC)Jame (Kencyrath) and Polly (Fire and Hemlock) discuss dealing with responsibilities, or friendship, or being happy.
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Date: 2013-03-09 06:05 pm (UTC)--
Jame sneezed, and suspected she was getting increasingly lost, making her way through the darkened, dusty stacks of books by touch alone. She really could have used Jorin’s senses just now, but that flighty cat had run off again--or more likely had sense enough to know when following Jame was not a good idea.
Then suddenly there was a light, faintly illuminating a skinny, pale, and utterly unfamiliar young woman. “Scrollswoman?” Jame hazarded.
“Sorry?” said the stranger.
“This . . . this is the college, isn’t it?”
The stranger laughed. “Well, it was. Now, I think . . . it must be Nowhere.” Her eyes lit for a moment, then she frowned. “No offense, but you’re not who I was hoping to meet.”
“None taken.” Jame grinned. “I seldom am.”
“But you are a hero, aren’t you? You’ve got the look.”
“I don’t think so,” said Jame. “Mostly I just stay one step ahead of utter disasters, generally ones I had some hand in causing.”
“Ah. Definitely a hero,” the stranger decided. “Princesses to rescue, worlds to save, that sort of thing?”
“More . . . worlds to destroy, in my case,” Jame admitted. “There’s a prophecy.”
“Isn’t there always? Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice . . .”
Riddles. Despite the stranger’s initial confusion, Jame was becoming convinced that her first guess of scrollswoman had been right. “But most agree it’s both, because the God’s a bastard,” she answered.
“I don’t think I believe in God,” said the stranger. “But I do believe in stories. I hope you figure out what you’re supposed to do.”
“And I hope you find who you’re looking for,” said Jame. “But let me tell you from my experience--when you do, they’re not always happy to see you.”
“And let me tell you from mine--sometimes when you get to the end, you’re still not sure how it’s all ended. But good luck, all the same.”