Writing Meme (the Spooky edition)

[thisbluespirit]

Found on tumblr & it looked like a fun seasonal meme. (I was going to link to the original, but tumblr wouldn't let me. *thumps tumblr to no avail*)

Give me a number plus a ship and I’ll write you a spooky ficlet.

(As ever with these things, any fandom is fair game - I'll just say if I don't know or can't do it. If you don't want a ship, use an & rather than a / between your characters. My tags/ profile should give most of the things I know.)

1. Demons
2. Fog
3. Ghosts
4. Moon
5. Necromancers
6. Possession
7. Vampires
8. Haunted house
9. Cemetery
10. Ritual
11. Bonfire
12. Curse
13. Spirits
14. Werewolves
15. Alone
16. Disappearance
17. Mystery
18. Disguises
19. Zombies
20. Nightmares
21. Abandoned location
22. Noises

Comments

[persiflage_1]

Ha!

7 - Liv & Eight
8 - Liz Shaw & Silver
15 (misnumbered as 14) - Ruth/Harry (Spooks)
18 - Ten & Martha

ETA: Meant to say any/all of the above is acceptable. TY!

Alone - Ruth/Harry

[thisbluespirit]

Harry was the last one on the grid. It wasn’t unusual these days, but he’d taken to staying longer lately. It was illogical – there were far more memories of Ruth tied up with this place than with his home. Her cat had lived there with him, but not Ruth. Never Ruth.

He stared down at the open file on his desk, only to find it closed; EYES ONLY stamped on the front. He rubbed his forehead. He must be getting more tired than he’d realised, he decided, and opened it again.

He was distracted from reading by the cold. They must have turned the blasted heating off downstairs. He supposed he couldn’t blame them: it was gone eleven and there couldn’t be too many people left in the building, just the necessary skeleton staff to keep the nation safe through the night, barring emergencies. He shivered.

The file had closed again. Harry looked around his office more warily as an impossible breeze knocked his scarf from its peg. The door swung open and shut, too irritating too ignore. He felt the same cold air on his face; the slightest touch, although it was probably only his imagination.

Harry stared at it, and then got up, crossing to pick up the scarf, his fingers closing around the soft material. He didn’t believe in spooks other than the sort he saw daily, of course, but it was late, the grid was in semi-darkness and he was tired. One could half-believe the impossible in such circumstances. Maybe that was why he stayed, after all.

“You know,” he said, “if this is a hint for me to go home, it’s more likely to have the opposite effect.”

The grid fell silent again. Harry waited, but there was no more. Of course – nothing could have happened, so nothing had. Although, he thought, trying to be amused, trying not to take it seriously, if anyone would ever haunt Thames House, it would be her. She always had.

Harry went home – alone.

Re: Alone - Ruth/Harry

[persiflage_1]

😢😭😢😭

Oh thank you for tearing my still beating heart from my chest, ripping it to shreds, and stomping on the pieces.

Re: Alone - Ruth/Harry

[thisbluespirit]

My pleasure - let's do it again tomorrow. ;-p


*hugs*

Re: Alone - Ruth/Harry

[persiflage_1]

*hugs back* Yes, let's!

Liz & Silver - Haunted House (442 words)

[thisbluespirit]

Liz had attended a good many conferences held in what were or had once been stately homes. Most of them had ghost stories attached, but it wasn’t something she paid much attention to, unless they were unusual enough to betoken alien activity of the sort that the Doctor specialised in.

However, this particular conference was being held over Halloween, the power had gone out yet again, and she was currently sitting in a large four-poster bed in a wood-panelled room lit only by one candle beside her bed; a candle that was currently flickering dangerously.

That would not have troubled her much, either, but items kept moving in the room. On the dresser, her hairbrush had fallen off onto the floor three times – she declined to replace it again – and a rather ugly porcelain milkmaid had flown off the shelf on the opposite wall, while her book had somehow disappeared altogether.

“Here comes a candle to light you to bed,” one of her fellow attendees had joked as they set off upstairs, candles in hand.

As the mirror crashed down off the wall and her candle was simultaneously extinguished, Liz found herself dwelling on the line that followed: Here comes the chopper to chop off your head!”

“Oh, honestly,” she said out loud to herself. It wasn’t like her to be so jumpy. She fumbled around for the matches in the bedside cabinet and relit the candle. She swung herself out of bed and put on her dressing gown. If things were moving around the room, there most be some cause. Some force must be setting them in motion – whatever it was, human or inhuman.

Liz stood and set off with the candle to examine every corner of the room. The shadows played strange games with her as she moved.

And then she heard something that was not an object falling or being thrown - a distinct rustle of movement. Someone or something was in the room with her. Liz straightened herself and swallowed back fear, and then stepped forward, towards the darkened alcove.

“I’m not scared, you know,” she said. “I don’t believe in ghosts, so just come on out and stop playing stupid games!”

There was a small, soft chuckle in the darkness, and Liz took a step backwards.

“Don’t you?” said Silver, emerging out of the shadow and into the candlelight. “I suppose not, but it depends what you mean by ‘ghosts’. Some of them are very real indeed.”

“Including whatever’s in this room?”

“Possibly, yes,” said Silver. “That – or something worse.”

“Like you?”

“Oh, I’m positively benign compared to it.”

The candle went out for the second time.

Re: Liz & Silver - Haunted House (442 words)

[persiflage_1]

EEEEEE!! I <3 you so much for this! Thank you!!!

Re: Liz & Silver - Haunted House (442 words)

[thisbluespirit]

Aw, my pleasure! I came to write some more today, & had just been watching some S&S & couldn't resist.

Re: Liz & Silver - Haunted House (442 words)

[persiflage_1]

I'm glad you didn't - I mean, resistance is futile, really, when it comes to Silver fic! :D

[jhall1]

Not what you meant by "ship", but I'm afraid that I still first think of the old-fashioned kind whenever I see the word. And it occurs to me that 16 and the Mary Celeste are a natural match. Please feel free to ignore this if you don't fancy it.

[thisbluespirit]

Heh, I'm not sure I could write that kind of ship, you're right! Although, it is true that Steel had a bad time with it - he doesn't want to talk about it. BuT I suspect that one would have to be an epic...

[romanajo123]

hmmmmm...
7. Seven & Ace
6. 5/Nyssa (&/Tegan)
21. Eight &/Grace Holloway

[osprey_archer]

Oooh, I like this! I may steal it.

In the meantime: Harriet/Peter for 2, 3 (I still can't get over the actual Wimsey ghost at the end of Busman's Honeymoon. So random! Yet strangely fitting!), or 15?

[thisbluespirit]

It's lovely, isn't it? I can't seem to link back to the original post, but there were some additional prompts I removed - Reincarnation, blood feud, angels, Lovecraft & ouija).

And I am afraid I haven't read the Wimsey books for so many years, that would be beyond me - would anyone else do? (I can (usually) manage Alleyn/Troy and Christie and things?)

[osprey_archer]

Alleyn/Troy is always good! Probably for different prompts, though. Perhaps... 8, 12, or 21?

I suspect Alleyn doesn't believe in the supernatural - which doesn't mean it won't come calling for him, of course.

[thisbluespirit]

Here's the fic - it grew too long to fit in a comment: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12675138

[osprey_archer]

YAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!!

Have only read the summary yet, but Alleyn should know better by now than to try to take a holiday. Murder follows you EVERYWHERE, Alleyn! Probably if he got shipwrecked on a deserted island, murder would still happen somehow. Perhaps amongst the parakeets.

[thisbluespirit]

if he got shipwrecked on a deserted island, murder would still happen somehow. Perhaps amongst the parakeets.

lol, I'm picturing a perturbed Alleyn confronted with one parakeet doing away with another and having to wonder whether or not it's even his jurisdiction. He couldn't have long interviews with them, though.

[john_amend_all]

I've given up expecting consistency from Tumblr. Too much trying to be clever with JavaScript, I think. (ETA: Would this be the right link?)

OK, here are some prompts to play with:

4. Zoë/Isobel
5. One & Vicki
12. Rosanna Spearman
13. Jamie/Sam

[thisbluespirit]

I was trying to link to the original post, but yes, that's the one. But tumblr is weird some days.

Thanks for the prompts!

[john_amend_all]

I think it may be because the original post is only visible to logged-in Tumblr users, whereas the reblog is public.

One & Vicki, Necromancy, Beginner's Luck, 431 words

[thisbluespirit]

“I only wanted to see what they were doing,” said Vicki. She and the Doctor were currently hiding behind the curtains on opposite sides of the window, waiting for their pursuers to hopefully pass on by. “Creeping down into the crypt in the middle of the night in robes like that. They might have been plotting to kill the queen or anything.”

“My dear child, at that point, you should have come and found me.”

“Yes, but, Doctor,” Vicki said, “you had gone off with the Archchancellor and I didn’t know when you were coming back.”

The Doctor drew himself up and fixed her with a sharp gaze. “Yes, yes, all very true, but I’d like to know what you have to say for yourself about what happened next, eh?”

“Well,” said Vicki, “they caught me. But then, you see, they were very friendly. They said it’s hard to get new members these days and why didn’t I join in for a bit, and, of course, I didn’t really think it would work anyway, so what was the harm? I mean, raising the dead – that’s impossible!”

“Shh,” said the Doctor, and they both waited while a dozen or so alien cultists in black robes ran past, followed by the pale and lumbering form of the previous monarch, who seemed to have woken from eternal sleep in a distinctly bad mood and disinclined to answer questions.

“Impossible?” he said when they’d gone, tilting his head to one side.

Vicki peered out from behind her curtain. “Well, they said they’d never managed it before. I must be a natural at it or something.”

“Hmm, have you still got that book of theirs?”

Vicki nodded.

“Let me look at it, and we’ll see if there’s a way to undo whatever it is you’ve done. Let us hope you’re a natural at that, as well.”

“Yes, but how?” said Vicki. “Ghosts and magic and all that – it’s only a lot of superstition and nonsense. So how could it have happened? They seemed just as surprised as I was, so I don’t think it was a trick. Except it must have been, mustn’t it?”

The Doctor looked across at her, lowering the ancient magical volume. He gave a chuckle. “The thing about ghosts and magic and all that, as you put it, is that what looks like science or magic or the supernatural rather depends on who you and where you’re standing, especially when you’ve got a whole universe of space and time to chose from.”

“I don’t get it.”

“No, my dear,” he said. “Nobody does. That’s the fun of it. But for now I think we should try and put that poor old corpse back where it belongs, don’t you?”

Re: One & Vicki, Necromancy, Beginner's Luck, 431 words

[john_amend_all]

Thanks! You write their rapport very well.

Re: One & Vicki, Necromancy, Beginner's Luck, 431 words

[thisbluespirit]

Hee, thanks! They're so much fun.

[jaxomsride2]

7 Avon/Cally

12 Bester and Sheridan

20 Spock/ Cally

[liadt]

12. Curse. Georgina Jones and Simms.

The full list needs more witchy things!

Doomed!

Curse - Georgie & Simms, 609 words

[thisbluespirit]

Simms had only left the living room for a few short minutes. He had foolishly supposed that the large package from the British Museum sitting in the centre of it would be left unmolested until he returned, but midway through boiling the kettle, he was disabused of that notion by a loud and instantly recognisable yell from the other room.

“Miss Jones,” he said, screwing up his courage to re-enter and find out what she’d done now, only to find her standing near the box, it having been opened to reveal an Egyptian cat-mummy.

Georgie was circling it, screwing up her face in distaste. “Mr Adamant isn’t going use this as an ornament, is he?”

“Of course not,” said Simms. “They went out long before William Morris came in. And that package was labelled danger, fragile, and do not touch! Can’t you read?”

She turned and pulled what she presumably hoped was a disarming smile. “It just fell apart in my hands. I mean, honestly – I went across to look and then as soon as I touched it –”

“That was probably why it said do not touch.”

Georgie sighed. “Oh, well. What is it? Is it part of a case?”

“Yes,” said Simms, eyeing the packaging. “It’s apparently cursed.”

She frowned. “Then why would anyone send it to Mr Adamant – unless they didn’t like him very much?”

“The British Museum suspect the stories of its being cursed are some kind of scam run by criminals who wish to steal it and some other articles, so Mr Adamant has volunteered to take care of it and stop the thieves. But nobody’s tried anything so far, so perhaps it is a real curse.”

Georgie fell back into the sofa and laughed.

Simms coughed, and managed a limerick of sorts:

“There was a young lady from London
Who’d never leave parcels undone
She unpacked a cat,
And that, for the young lady, was that!”

“Hey,” said Georgie in vague protest, before stopping sharply midway through straightening herself up on the sofa. “Simms. Um, since when did Adam get a cat?”

“A cat?”

Georgie nodded to the seat beside her where a black cat was sitting, gazing solemnly back at her.

“He hasn’t,” said Simms. “It must have got in here when I wasn’t looking – probably related to you!”

Georgie stuck her tongue out. “Yes, but one minute it wasn’t there – the next it was.”

“As I said, the animal must be a close cousin of yours, Miss Jones.”

The cat straightened up and hissed.

“It’s not some stray,” said Georgie, leaning towards it. “It’s got the snazziest collar I’ve ever seen.”

Simms came closer. He raised his eyebrows. “Snazzy is not the word, Miss Jones. That looks like solid gold.”

“You’re having me on!”

“You know,” added Simms, “I believe the curse involved the spirit of the cat god returning to plague whoever disturbed its immortal rest. It promised to bring bad luck and probably boils.”

Georgie looked at the cat and scratched it under the chin, causing it to purr loudly. “Awww. Ghost-kitty! You wouldn’t give me boils, would you? You could give Simms boils, though – trying to scare me like that! Attack, tiger!”

The cat leapt for Simms, teeth showing and claws out. Simms yelped and ducked even as Mr Adamant came in the other door.

“What in the world is going on?” He surveyed the scene as he removed his cloak. “Oh, I see Miss Jones came to call. No doubt that explains everything. Simms, what are you doing with that cat?”

Simms retreated back into the kitchen before it tore his trousers to shreds. “Ask Miss Jones!”

Re: Curse - Georgie & Simms, 609 words

[liadt]

Aha ha ha ha! Miss Jones is keeping it then?;p

Re: Curse - Georgie & Simms, 609 words

[thisbluespirit]

I suppose that depends what else it does... :-D

[calliopes_pen]

14. Jonathan and Mina (Dracula 1968).

[thisbluespirit]

Mina & Jonathan (Mina/Jonathan-ish) & werewolves here, as it got a bit long for a comment: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12703005

[dimity_blue]

Agatha Christie. Miss Marple and Zombies! (19.)

I'm sure she'd do splendidly.

[thisbluespirit]

I had nearly run out of time on this writing meme, but here is a Miss Marple & zombies drabble for you:

***

Raymond exclaimed on finding his Aunt Jane standing over the dead body of Sir Roger Allanby. He would have blamed the marauding zombies outside had they not now ceased marauding and collapsed into a decaying mess on the lawn, and for the fact that his aunt was holding a gun.

“Such an unpleasant necessity,” murmured Miss Marple, “but once it became obvious that Sir Roger was controlling those poor creatures, there was only one way to deal with him. And once something must be done, there is no use hiding from it. He was, you see, a very wicked man.”

***

[dimity_blue]

*squees* Go, Miss Marple! Didn't I say she'd be splendid? Trust her to put an end to a situation!

This is awesome, thank you! *hugs*

[thisbluespirit]

Thanks!

[sovay]

Give me a number plus a ship and I’ll write you a spooky ficlet.

I don't actually know if I ship Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, so that can be a / or an & as you prefer, but I'd like to request them and #18, disguises. (I fear Norrell would not excel in this department.)