(no subject)

[failure]

Hello, I'm stuck in an empty office w/ no work for the next six hours so I'm bringing back the old school Drabble meme.

1. Tag in
2. Leave prompts
3. Write

Comments

[lontano]

okay desperately need things to do at work and drabbles are the best idea ever so throw 'em at me

willing to write anyone I've played and a few I've considered but didn't play

(<--- douwe btw)

[failure]

Oil man - you've got the wrong ice king
Mal/Lucia - golden
Rowan - best parties
Danute/Leo - blue Danube
Daffy/Danute - water
Hour quartet - death
Hour quartet - alive

[lontano]

The war of the vying Winter Kings and Queens was subtle but vicious; which only made sense, as the Winter Court itself relied on both subtly and viciousness in order to survive. Half of the Freehold had barely registered there was a war going on with a fourth of its people.

As always, one survived to the end. The smartest pulled their names out of the hat and out of the game when they knew they could not win. Others thought they were smart and stayed in until the game had destroyed them or their lives.

When they saw who remained, the smartest whispered among themselves if they had actually been stupid and should have remained. What threat did a wizened – a drudge, even, the lowest of the already low, servants to monsters and cleaners to humans – pose to them? He was the wrong king for the court of ice.

A few tried.

They died.

No one else tried after that.

[lontano]

Danute liked water, although she had to admit she liked it best when she knew a shower and a set of dry clothes was waiting for her when she was done walking around in rain without an umbrella or a raincoat.

Victory was often rainy, which suited her just fine. It kept the plants and foliage happy. It kept her happy, since she could walk in rain on a regular basis.

It looked like it made Daffy happy. She turned down a street and found him walking, sans umbrella or raincoat, just as she was.

Danute waved at him, and smiled when he waved back. “Going anywhere in particular?”

Daffy shook his head as she caught up to him. “Not really.”

“That sounds good to me. Would you like a companion?”

modern/college AU

[lontano]

Rowan did enjoy destroying expectations. Most knew him for his sharp tongue, or his difficult classes, or through his reviews on the teacher grading website that theorized that the environmental advisers hated all their students because they kept saying they should sign up for his biology or chemistry labs. A few learned he was a devoted brother to his gaggle of siblings, full and half, and they walked all over him if he was the mildest and gentlest of men.

Now, they learned that he was more than competent as a host and that he could play at being charismatic and complimentary.

He enjoyed the fact that that unsettled them more than even his most cutting comments.

Rowan learned the trick of parties from his mother, although she did it better. No one suspected her of anything under her polite and friendly façade, although they most certainly should. He went to her for advice on catering, on location, on decoration, on drinks, and anything he could think of beyond who to invite. That, unfortunately, was out of his control. The entire university staff was invited; he thought maybe a fourth of them made an appearance.

A good host did not stand in corners and contemplate his awesomeness, he reminded himself. Rowan put a friendly face and went back into the crowd of coworkers and their plus ones, ignoring the side glances he got as best as he could. It would do no good to laugh.

[lontano]

They were not actually married; a short amount of time on the internet quickly made it apparent there was no way that they could have officially registered for their marriage through the government, purposely found a Justice of the Peace to oversee the ceremony, and bought a pair of matching gold wedding bands over the course of one drunken night.

It was a relief. Of course.

Somehow, that realization didn’t end them as a pair. Not romantically, not really, but platonically. He was friendly. He was artistic. He was attractive, although informing him of that when he had his mouth full inevitably caused his mouth to not remain full much longer. He was easy to talk to.

He was easy to listen to. He performed in cafes and bars, sitting on a dimly lit stage with a guitar and crooning to an audience who preferred to talk to each other or focus on their drinks instead of listen.

Danute listened. She had gone enough that she could recognize many of the songs he performed; she had a habit of pestering Leo after performances to name all of the songs she did not recognize.

Right now it was the Blue Danube. It was one of the first songs she remembered, and one of the songs he performed most. It was one that sounded odd just on guitar when she first listened to it, but it had grown comfortable and familiar.