Though I still need to get my ass in gear and back up the rest of my writing here, it was requested that I post these publicly somewhere! So here are the ficlets I wrote for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
help_haiti:
For![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
noelleno:
“You know, I could take you anywhere you wanted.”
Jasper smiled up at Angelo as she leaned back in the pilot’s chair, her face lit only by the city lights below them. “I know you could.”
“We could go anywhere, and it wouldn’t take you any time, or anything.” Angelo scowled. “So you don’t have to do this job.”
“No, not technically,” she said evenly; she was far too used to Angelo’s way of thinking to take it as an insult. “But that’s a magician’s way of thinking, isn’t it?”
He looked even more put-out. He hated when people talked over his head. “What does that mean?”
“Just something I’ve noticed. To you, everything is about the result, right?” She reached up and pulled him onto the chair with her. “Normal people live through the process. Without it, nothing’s quite as satisfying.” When he stared blankly, she sighed, “If you’d just cast a spell to make me like you, would you be satisfied?”
“Hmph.” Angelo spoke into her hair. It was the closest to a ‘no’ she’d get. “Would have been less troublesome, though.”
Jasper just laughed. He had no idea.
Fortempest_strife:
After a few months, when breathing and eating and the prospect of mortal injury were finally starting to get old again, Alphonse Elric realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d read a book for fun.
He used to read all the time, if he remembered correctly – not just textbooks and tomes, but books that had nothing to do with alchemy, as well. The only problem was, after so many years, he didn’t know where to start. He knew dozens of extremely intelligent people, but very few of them had any use for fiction.
There was only one, really.
“And here’re the ones I read last week,” Schiezka dropped another dozen or so books at Alphonse’s feet, and another directly into his lap. “You should start with that one, I just couldn’t put it down-”
“M-Miss Schiezka…” Alphonse glanced around at the steadily growing pile of books at his feet. There were easily one hundred of them – Schiezka had breathlessly exclaimed that she didn’t know what he liked, so she was just going to fetch all of them.
“Yes?” she said, rummaging through a nearby shelf.
Alphonse didn’t quite have the heart to tell her he could only check out three at a time, or that he couldn’t see the library exit over the pile of books anymore, so he said, “Maybe we should stop there, before we’re trapped in here forever?”
“Oh!” Schiezka let out a dreamy sigh as she pulled two books at a time into her arms. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Well, what can you do, he thought, picking up a book. If nothing else, he'd read his way out.
And forgooglebrat:
“My…” Sophos recognized the feminine sigh as that of Pol’s wife. “You must have scared him quite a bit, to drive him under there.”
Sophos almost swore. (Or, rather, Sophos almost forgot that he didn’t know many curse words, and he sounded ridiculous uttering the ones he did know.) He never was any good at hiding; not when he was a child and liked those kinds of games, and certainly not now. Maybe if he held really still and stayed quiet, they would think that he wasn’t really under there after all.
He heard a grunt – Pol, maybe – and Pol’s wife laughed. “I’ll leave his dinner here. He’ll come out when he gets hungry.”
“… he’s not a cat,” Sophos heard Pol say.
Her only response was to keep laughing, and Sophos felt her footsteps above him as she crossed the veranda and went back into the house.
Sophos’ plan had been to hide until everyone had gone to sleep, then start walking. But one whiff of his dinner was enough to make him want to cry. He was going to need to eat something before he left.
He waited a little longer, just to make sure Pol was gone, too, before crawling out from under the veranda into the yard.
He emerged in front of a platter stuffed with enough food to feed him three times over. And sitting cross-legged next to the platter, regarding Sophos calmly, was Pol.
Sophos jumped, with an embarrassingly unmanly squeak, and before he could stop himself, he was babbling. “I’m sorry I’m so awful,” he blurted out, almost in tears. “I know you were supposed to teach me how to use a sword, and I know you’ve been trying really hard, but I just can’t do it, and I don’t want to waste your time anym—”
It was amazing, how Pol could silence someone just by looking at them. He waited a beat, as if to be sure Sophos was listening, and said, “It’s only been one day.”
“… I know,” Sophos mumbled. “But it’s hopeless, right?”
If Sophos didn’t know better, he would have thought Pol looked a little amused. “Skill is one thing,” he said. “But the best fighters are the most patient ones.”
As the weeks went on, Sophos only became surer that he’d never be a good fighter. He was equally sure, though, that no one was better than Pol.
Thank you so much to everybody who donated. ♥
help_haiti:For
noelleno:“You know, I could take you anywhere you wanted.”
Jasper smiled up at Angelo as she leaned back in the pilot’s chair, her face lit only by the city lights below them. “I know you could.”
“We could go anywhere, and it wouldn’t take you any time, or anything.” Angelo scowled. “So you don’t have to do this job.”
“No, not technically,” she said evenly; she was far too used to Angelo’s way of thinking to take it as an insult. “But that’s a magician’s way of thinking, isn’t it?”
He looked even more put-out. He hated when people talked over his head. “What does that mean?”
“Just something I’ve noticed. To you, everything is about the result, right?” She reached up and pulled him onto the chair with her. “Normal people live through the process. Without it, nothing’s quite as satisfying.” When he stared blankly, she sighed, “If you’d just cast a spell to make me like you, would you be satisfied?”
“Hmph.” Angelo spoke into her hair. It was the closest to a ‘no’ she’d get. “Would have been less troublesome, though.”
Jasper just laughed. He had no idea.
For
tempest_strife:After a few months, when breathing and eating and the prospect of mortal injury were finally starting to get old again, Alphonse Elric realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d read a book for fun.
He used to read all the time, if he remembered correctly – not just textbooks and tomes, but books that had nothing to do with alchemy, as well. The only problem was, after so many years, he didn’t know where to start. He knew dozens of extremely intelligent people, but very few of them had any use for fiction.
There was only one, really.
“And here’re the ones I read last week,” Schiezka dropped another dozen or so books at Alphonse’s feet, and another directly into his lap. “You should start with that one, I just couldn’t put it down-”
“M-Miss Schiezka…” Alphonse glanced around at the steadily growing pile of books at his feet. There were easily one hundred of them – Schiezka had breathlessly exclaimed that she didn’t know what he liked, so she was just going to fetch all of them.
“Yes?” she said, rummaging through a nearby shelf.
Alphonse didn’t quite have the heart to tell her he could only check out three at a time, or that he couldn’t see the library exit over the pile of books anymore, so he said, “Maybe we should stop there, before we’re trapped in here forever?”
“Oh!” Schiezka let out a dreamy sigh as she pulled two books at a time into her arms. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Well, what can you do, he thought, picking up a book. If nothing else, he'd read his way out.
And for
googlebrat:“My…” Sophos recognized the feminine sigh as that of Pol’s wife. “You must have scared him quite a bit, to drive him under there.”
Sophos almost swore. (Or, rather, Sophos almost forgot that he didn’t know many curse words, and he sounded ridiculous uttering the ones he did know.) He never was any good at hiding; not when he was a child and liked those kinds of games, and certainly not now. Maybe if he held really still and stayed quiet, they would think that he wasn’t really under there after all.
He heard a grunt – Pol, maybe – and Pol’s wife laughed. “I’ll leave his dinner here. He’ll come out when he gets hungry.”
“… he’s not a cat,” Sophos heard Pol say.
Her only response was to keep laughing, and Sophos felt her footsteps above him as she crossed the veranda and went back into the house.
Sophos’ plan had been to hide until everyone had gone to sleep, then start walking. But one whiff of his dinner was enough to make him want to cry. He was going to need to eat something before he left.
He waited a little longer, just to make sure Pol was gone, too, before crawling out from under the veranda into the yard.
He emerged in front of a platter stuffed with enough food to feed him three times over. And sitting cross-legged next to the platter, regarding Sophos calmly, was Pol.
Sophos jumped, with an embarrassingly unmanly squeak, and before he could stop himself, he was babbling. “I’m sorry I’m so awful,” he blurted out, almost in tears. “I know you were supposed to teach me how to use a sword, and I know you’ve been trying really hard, but I just can’t do it, and I don’t want to waste your time anym—”
It was amazing, how Pol could silence someone just by looking at them. He waited a beat, as if to be sure Sophos was listening, and said, “It’s only been one day.”
“… I know,” Sophos mumbled. “But it’s hopeless, right?”
If Sophos didn’t know better, he would have thought Pol looked a little amused. “Skill is one thing,” he said. “But the best fighters are the most patient ones.”
As the weeks went on, Sophos only became surer that he’d never be a good fighter. He was equally sure, though, that no one was better than Pol.
Thank you so much to everybody who donated. ♥
