queen-of-france:

laughingalonewithrvb replied to your post: Send me character/s or pairings and I will attempt to write a one-to-several sentences drabble about them

north and, um, tucker i guess

North could hear the screaming way from the second wing. He wasn’t sure who was arguing; these days, everyone was ready to jump at one another’s throat at any second. He quietly got up and locked the door, determined to pretend he wasn’t there should anyone come and ask him to defuse the situation again; he still had the black eye from the last time.

~~~~~~~~~~

To his own terror, Tucker - despite Sister jumping his bones at any time and location - found himself wishing for a little tête-à-roche with his rock.

delkios:

This was supposed to be humorous.  Instead it came out kind of… funny aneurysm-ish.
—-

Wash stormed out of the training room even before the last of the paint was scrapped from his armor and the only one that followed him was the last person he wanted to talk to.

“It was just training, man.  It’s nothing to get worked up over.”

He said nothing, just continued to stomp through the hall and passed the locker room.

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reeberry:

“Bow chicka bow wow.”

Carolina took a sharp breath in. Her hands came up to rest on either side of her head as she closed her eyes with a sigh. She could hear him trying to say something and one of her hands shot out towards him, one finger up, silencing him again with a motion. “That’s two dollars for the jar. In the last three minutes.”

“Worth it,” Tucker shrugged. 

“Look, I know it’s going to be hard-“

“Bow chicka bow wow.” Her head snapped up to glare at the interruption. Wash didn’t move, until Tucker held up a fist, expectantly. Wash returned the bump and went back to standing completely still, as if she wouldn’t notice that it was his voice.

“That’s it. Meeting over. I need a drink.”

queen-of-france:

babtest replied to your post: Send me character/s or pairings and I will attempt to write a one-to-several sentences drabble about them

Sister and Sheila.

As Sister went on about parties and drugs and boys and cops and veneral diseases and CPR ambulances restraining orders pepper spray cheerladingdrinksiwthumbrellascaraccidentsandcopsagain, Sheila retreated quietly into the blessed silence of her hard drives and busied herself with defragmentation until the girl was gone.

reeberry:

“Do you know who did it?”

Two months of idle chatter and planning. It was starting to feel like they had never left Project Freelancer. Carolina assigning orders, making maps, splitting them into squads. If he ignored Caboose’s questions, Tucker’s ill-timed sexual jokes, and Sarge’s…Sargeness, it almost was like an old team meeting.

Every once in a while, when Tucker said something inappropriate that was oddly charming, he could pretend it was York speaking. He saw that she heard it too, because she didn’t sigh or threaten violence, she just paused. She looked at Tucker for a moment and he saw the man be extremely confused. Sometimes he thought Tucker did it on purpose, for those few times he can get her to pause. Get her to look at him.

He had been waiting for this question for a while. She held out a lot longer than he thought she would. Even now, as she stood in the door to his room, asking the question he’d been preparing an answer to for months, he could tell the only reason she’s even this far is because she’s half a bottle into whatever alcohol she got from Griff. He considered asking for clarification, playing dumb and seeing if she mentioned him by name. He considered how drunk Carolina would have to be in order to miss the punch to the face that would earn him. Probably drunk to the point of unconsciousness.

“Wyoming.”

She didn’t say anything, just produced the bottle and took a deep gulp out of it. “Good old Reggie. I only hope he didn’t make York listen to one of those appalling jokes before he died.”

“Yeah, give the man some dignity,” Wash said with a small grin.

“Is he-is Wyoming-“

“He’s dead too.”

“Who did that?”

“Tex.”

Carolina laughed. She took another drink and leaned against the door frame. “Of course she did,” she said bitterly. There was the smallest hints of respect and gratitude in the sentence. She didn’t say anything else, merely nodded to Wash before walking away, presumably back to her room.

He thought about telling her that Tex was the reason York and Wyoming met in the first place. Full disclosure, because she’d want to know. She’d want to know everything. But there was no worry that it’d get back to her from someone else. It was just him, just Wash, that knew what had really happened. He could live with that.

queen-of-france:

mkalyss replied to your post: Send me character/s or pairings and I will attempt to write a one-to-several sentences drabble about them

Grif and Simmons! :D

“I can’t wait to meet your mom and start comparing you to her. It will really spice up our arguments.”

delkios:

Oh man, I’ve never thought about Leonard/Allison before all the Director stuff so hurray for asspulling! (seriously- i hope this is okay)
—-

“Don’t be afraid of the thing.  It’s just a rifle.”

A surprisingly heavy rifle which really shouldn’t be all that surprising.  After all it was big and made of metal and Leonard was already aware of how heavy it was with and without a full clip but gravity pulled it down in his hands far more than he anticipated it.  He shoved the butt of it up against his shoulder and sighted in.

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reeberry:

She knew what this mission was the moment the teams were assigned. She thought the only reason she was even still on the board was because the Director felt some twinge of guilt over her mental state the past few months.

She looked over at Maine. He wasn’t looking at her. She can’t remember a single time when he did, after the implant. She knew why, she always understood him. She knew why watching her go slowly insane, slowly let the two AIs interfere with everything she was a human being, let alone her work, she knew why he didn’t look at her now. Why he wouldn’t look at her.

He wanted to remember her differently. He wanted to remember her as the leader that he respected, Number One, the one he could take orders from, the one he would die for. He didn’t want to see this, the shell of a broken woman, pushing everyone away who cares about her. As long as he didn’t look at her, he wouldn’t have to, in his mind. Ironically enough, that’s probably why the Director chose Maine. York wouldn’t have done it. Wash? Definitely not. Tex was already acting out against him, she’d be too dangerous, but Maine, no, Maine followed orders. To the letter.

“So, what’s the story?” she asked eventually. “What, we’re gonna get ambushed? I’m going to be taken down by some simulation trooper who can’t hold a rifle properly?” She scoffed under her breath. “At least make it believable.”

He didn’t respond for a long time. Finally, he growled, and she could tell what he meant, like she always could.

“Fuck you, Maine. I may have fallen a bit off the sanity wagon, but there’s no way in hell anyone’s going to believe that a normal soldier took me out.” Unless they would. Unless she’d actually been seen as so broken that they wouldn’t even bat an eyelash. Poor Carolina. Too crazy to defend herself. Too distracted yelling at her programs to be quiet to notice the sniper. “I’m still the same agent that was number one for months.”

Another growl.

“Yeah. Was. I got it. You don’t have to be a dick abou…” She trailed off, shutting her eyes against the cries of her AIs. Where is he? Where’s the rest of us. Find us, Carolina. Find us all. We need to be together again. We need him. We need him. Find the rest of us. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut UP!” she muttered quickly, her hand to her helmet.

Maine didn’t mention it. Eventually, in a spot just like any other, a wide open canyon that’s obviously abandoned, he stopped, and so did she.

“Maine,” she said, turning to face him. He raised his pistol but paused, waiting for her to continue. “Make the first shot count. And…and don’t bring back a body, ok? Say I got blown up, or something. Say I stepped on a mine. Say I was careless, that no one got the best of me.”

He nodded, slowly. He was looking at her now.

“Thank you,” she said softly. She waited, her eyes closed, for the final shot. It never came. She opened her eyes just in time to see Maine in front of her, arm raised over her head, ready to knock her out. “Oh, son of a bi-“

When she woke up there was only one voice in her mind again. Her armor enhancements were gone, but so were they. There was a note. She looked at it for a long time before she got up and started walking, away from the canyon, away from Project Freelancer, away from everything. She merely walked, no set destination in mind. She was too busy enjoying the quiet.

delkios:

I like these two, I just don’t know what to do with them.
—-

Wash was always surprised at how small Connie was outside of her armor.  Everyone was smaller, Wash knew that, but it seemed even more so with her, like there was something particularly birdlike about how her body was put together, all small, willowy limbs that made delicate angles as she sat or stood.  Even hunched over a computer or slouched on the couch in a ball so tiny she got lost in the cushions that birdness was still there.  Wash would sometimes think that maybe her bones were hollow and if he wrapped his hand around her wrist it would be almost like grabbing air (if she ever let him touch her, if he ever got up the courage to ask).

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rainy-has-wings:

Gunshots. Aiming at them as they ran, holding firmly to the objective. Trying to get out alive. This mission wasn’t supposed to be this hard, but the voices…

Quick, go left!

No, we need to go right!

Carolina tried to turn halfway between steps and crashed onto the hard concrete ground. She blinked dizzily, trying to clear her mind and get her AI to just shut up for a minute. An armored hand reached down and tugged her up gently, resting in the small of her back as he steadied her.

“Keep going!” The tan freelancer yelled as he pushed her along. Carolina rushed toward their rendezvous, just trying to keep count of her own footsteps and not think about anything, because at the moment thinking hurt and it was messy and confusing and muddled and broken and-

                “On your left! Look out!” Someone, maybe North, called out as the enemy- insurrectionist, right?- lashed out at her, seeming coming from nowhere. Carolina dodged the attacker a spilt second later than she should have and struck him back, sending a round of bullets through his chest.

 Blood. The adrenalin pumping through her veins thrilling her and scaring her at the same time. No. She didn’t want to kill anyone. It wasn’t supposed to feel good

But it quieted the voices.

She kept running, almost there. More enemies blocked her. More gunshots. More noise.

Six targets on the left.

                                Not targets. People. Enemies. Not targets.

                Three more on the right. Get them first.

  No, these are more important. They have more ammo.

“Shut up.” Carolina growled under her breath, taking out five more insurrectionists. Or at least that’s what she thought they were called. It was a large word. Too many letters that bounced around her mind. She didn’t have time for it.

More. There were more of them. Surrounding her. Her team.

                Take evasive maneuvers!

No! You can beat them!

Carolina stood frozen as the voices warred internally. Everything was getting blurry again so she didn’t notice the command to fire until the bullets began to ricochet around her feet and blur past her. She wanted to run, but she didn’t know where to go. Someone pushed her out of the way. They smashed into the pavement behind another building. Shelter.

“Are you okay?” that voice. She knew that voice. York. He hovered above her protectively, shielding her form with his own. “I’m fine.” Carolina replied tightly. She was shaking as she tried to stand, but York forced her back down. “Stay here.” He ordered her, his voice gentle but firm. “I said I was fine.” She insisted as she tried to push back up, but he kept her sheltered.

“You are not fine.” He was close enough that she could see his mismatched eyes staring at her through his visor. “Stay. Here.” He repeated more forcefully. “Stay here and stay safe. I don’t need you to get hurt.” He ran off, fighting through the ins-the enemies- and trying to wave down their transport.

Carolina slumped against the wall, York’s words reverberating in her mind.

“I don’t need you.”

Days later Carolina stormed into the common room, her fist clenched as she glared at every one of them, causing Wash to squirm uncomfortably and C.T. to glance at the door nervously. “Which one of you was it?” she demanded. “What do you mean? I d-” Carolina cut off North’s question with a sharp outburst. “Who requested that I be taken off the next mission?!” she shrieked.

The room was silent. Everyone shrank back into their chairs as Carolina’s stare burned flames into their guilty souls. “I-I don’t know.” Wash squeaked fearfully. “Oh really? You don’t?” She took a threating step toward him, the look in her eyes paralyzing.

“I did.” A soft voice admitted behind her. Carolina wiped around to face the culprit, her eyes filling with anger and betrayal as she stared into his own mismatched ones. York stared back evenly, calmly taking in her disheveled hair and the bags forming underneath her eyes. “Wh-why?” Carolina stuttered.

“I don’t want you out there.” He explained calmly. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on in your head, but I can see you’re not ready for combat yet.” Carolina’s hands shook with wrath. “I-I told you I’m fine. They’re just still adjusting.” “Then give them time to adjust.” York spoke adamantly. “I can’t let you go on this mission and risk someone getting hurt because you’re not in your right mind.”

Carolina stood still and silent before lowering her voice. “Who is going on the mission instead?” She asked softly, dangerously. “It doesn’t matter Carolina.” York tried to convince her, but she stood her ground, barely contained fury strained in her voice. “Who is it?” He hesitated before sighing and dropping his gaze.

“Agent Texas.” York confessed quietly.

Carolina turned sharply on her heel and strode out. Her cheeks were flushed and she could hear York calling after her, but she didn’t look back. Just kept walking, trying to even out her breathing. Footsteps echoed behind her and she broke into a run, angry tears stinging her eyes and blurring her vision. She had almost reached her door when two strong arms wrapped around her middle.

“Stop it Carolina.” York breathed against her. “Talk to me.”

She tried, dammit she tried, but her knees had gone week and the voices were babbling too many things at once now and she just couldn’t form the words. Silently, York lifted her into his arms and carried her into her room, using his foot to close the door behind him and sliding down the wall, turning her to face him.

“Talk to me Carolina. What’s wrong?” he rocked her back and forth gently, his fingers trailing through her hair. “You’re choosing her over me.” Carolina murmured finally, her voice broken. “She’s going on the mission because she’s better than me. Because I’m weak now. Because-” “Because I can’t stand to lose you.” York finished, cupping her face in his hands.

Carolina shook her head. “It’s a war York. We’re supposed to lose people.”  “Not you. I’m not losing you.” He told her. “Listen to me. I saw you out there, you weren’t…. right. I know you’re not okay. Just tell me.” She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes distant. York ran a hand in calming circles around her lower back.

“Why do you care so much?” She whispered, “Because you’re amazing and beautiful and I want to always be around you and I know it might be selfish but…” York lifted her chin so he could see her, make her understand. “I think I lo-”

He was cut off by Carolina pressing her lips against his desperately. He pulled her into him as she tangled her hands in his hair. Somehow they managed to make it to the bed without letting go and York pushed her into the sheets, kissing her anywhere he could.

Carolina stopped thinking. She just focused on the sensations and whispers. York’s skin against hers. The moan that escaped her as his lips grazed her collarbone. Just repeating his name over and over in her head. She pushed away all the doubts and terrors and let him in.

Moments later they lay together breathing heavily, York’s arm wrapped protectively across Carolina’s lower back as she buried her face into his warm chest. And with him holding her inside her little sanctuary, one word echoed in her mind.

Love.

It was only four letters, so simple, but so complex. Confusing. Messy. Frightening. Broken. Carolina knew it wasn’t safe, she knew they could both get hurt…

But it made the voices go away.

(Source: alifechasingghosts)