malapropism (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
malapropism) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2012-02-28 08:03 pm
malapropism) wrote in rainbowfic2012-02-28 08:03 pm
Mouse Grey 9, Alice Blue 6, Sulphur 16
Title: HG Wells Can Suck It
Canon: Battle For the Sun
Colors: Mouse Grey 9 (bring me that horizon), Alice Blue 6 (six impossible things before breakfast), Sulphur 16 (fire)
Supplies: Watercolors (Write a story in which a hair dryer is used as a time-travel device), Eraser, Stain (Nothing is impossible. Some things are just less likely than others. - Jonathan Winters)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jaida, Kristen
Word count: 864
Summary: In the throes of boredom, Jaida invents a time machine. Kristen comes along for the ride.
When Jaida demanded Kristen at her doorstep, citing the invention of a time machine, Kristen had come willingly and unquestioningly. What else was there for it? TCM was airing old, schlocky pirate movies all day, and Kristen had known Jaida long enough now to know better than to doubt her friend's ability to frustrate even the higher laws of the universe into caving into her desires, or at the very least her ability to put on such a show about it that it was most certainly more interesting than studying for exams. Kristen knocked once only and Jaida threw the door open, her blonde hair wild and her eyes gleaming with some bright mania that more than likely had at least one very complicated entry in the DSM.
"Great, you're here," she said, voice giddy and hoarse. "So, which seminal historical figure do you want to assassinate first?"
"None of them right now, thank you," Kristen said. "How long has it been since you last slept? I know finals are coming up, but..."
"If I wanted a buzzkill, I'd have invited Mashiro over," Jaida said. "And get out of the hallway, you're scaring it with all that class. Don't you understand it can't handle girls who don't know how much liquour they can hold, you godless mudstick? Come in."
"I...fine," Kristen said. She'd grown used to being indiscriminately and senselessly insulted; it seemed to be the only way Jaida knew to express any of her emotions.
"She insults you using compliments," her roommate May had said one day. "Does that mean you're friends?"
She still had no answer.
Jaida's side of her dorm room was marked with a thin red line of lace, and from there it was clear which side she inhabited and which parts had been lost and reclaimed. Jaida sat on her roommate's cleanly folded sheets, brandishing a hair dryer as if it were a deadly weapon.
"Well? Companion's pick. Any era, any place you ever wanted to visit?" Jaida said, smiling, as if she was only asking if Kristen might like to visit Los Angeles for break. "We can fuck with the Inquisition, conquer Casanova, be made goddesses in Tenochtitlan. We could pants Rick Santorum in high school, Kristen."
"You have a very narrow view of time travel," Kristen said. "Have you never heard of paradoxes?"
"Oh please, paradoxes quail at the sight of my very shadow," Jaida said. She presented the handle of the hair dryer. "I've built in a paradox detector, which is why we can't punch Hitler. I tried that. It would have sent the universe reeling. Kicking him was fine, though."
"Let me think," Kristen said. It occurred to her that she genuinely expected Jaida to have done as she'd said as much as she expected to see her hauled off cackling in a straitjacket, and she despaired a little inside. She must ask for something small, she knew, some time that her presence wouldn't effect greatly. "I've always been fascinated by the English punk scene of the 80's."
Jaida rolled her eyes at Kristen, clearly dissatisfied with her friend's scope of ambition, but said, "Oh fine, but see if I invite you to storm the Bastille with me now. Give me your hand, and don't mind the burning sensation, that's normal. I guess."
And, it turned out, time travel did burn. The air of the hair dryer stung only at the sides of her face at first, but soon all of her was assaulted by heat and the push of an invisible gale. Kristen had been in a burning room, once, when her old dorm nearly fell apart in fire because someone had handled matches poorly; she felt like she was there again, unable to move with flames creeping ever closer to her skin. It ended suddenly, jarringly. And with the realization that wherever she was, punk was not even a thing yet. Jaida appeared at her side not a moment later, utterly without fanfare. "So here we are, just like you wanted. England, 1689. Let's go punk watching."
"We're in the 1680's?" Kristen said. Jaida said, "Let's not lie to ourselves and just admit that the punks in the 1680's are far superior to the punks of the 1980's, all right? Besides, I'm not going near the 1980's unless I've got a hazmat suit to combat all that hair spray and neon."
"But - the 1680's! That's so -" Kristen stopped, feeling as if she was struck. "Did you say 1689? William Shakespeare's first play comes out this year!"
"And believe me when I tell you you're the only person excited about that," Jaida said. "Theater nerd."
Kristen seemed to agree with Olde England, even if Olde England was in turn suspicious of her and her ridiculous plaid pantaloons. Jaida couldn't blame them. It was almost worth it, to see the awe never leave her friend's face. If she'd stop acting as if buildings were more fascinating than Jaida, she might even reconsider the almost.
"I'm sorry for doubting you," Kristen said, after Jaida managed to appropriate a set of time-appropriate clothing for the both of them. "This has been the greatest day of my life. And I haven't even been born yet."
Naturally, it wasn't long before she was forced to reconsider.
Canon: Battle For the Sun
Colors: Mouse Grey 9 (bring me that horizon), Alice Blue 6 (six impossible things before breakfast), Sulphur 16 (fire)
Supplies: Watercolors (Write a story in which a hair dryer is used as a time-travel device), Eraser, Stain (Nothing is impossible. Some things are just less likely than others. - Jonathan Winters)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jaida, Kristen
Word count: 864
Summary: In the throes of boredom, Jaida invents a time machine. Kristen comes along for the ride.
When Jaida demanded Kristen at her doorstep, citing the invention of a time machine, Kristen had come willingly and unquestioningly. What else was there for it? TCM was airing old, schlocky pirate movies all day, and Kristen had known Jaida long enough now to know better than to doubt her friend's ability to frustrate even the higher laws of the universe into caving into her desires, or at the very least her ability to put on such a show about it that it was most certainly more interesting than studying for exams. Kristen knocked once only and Jaida threw the door open, her blonde hair wild and her eyes gleaming with some bright mania that more than likely had at least one very complicated entry in the DSM.
"Great, you're here," she said, voice giddy and hoarse. "So, which seminal historical figure do you want to assassinate first?"
"None of them right now, thank you," Kristen said. "How long has it been since you last slept? I know finals are coming up, but..."
"If I wanted a buzzkill, I'd have invited Mashiro over," Jaida said. "And get out of the hallway, you're scaring it with all that class. Don't you understand it can't handle girls who don't know how much liquour they can hold, you godless mudstick? Come in."
"I...fine," Kristen said. She'd grown used to being indiscriminately and senselessly insulted; it seemed to be the only way Jaida knew to express any of her emotions.
"She insults you using compliments," her roommate May had said one day. "Does that mean you're friends?"
She still had no answer.
Jaida's side of her dorm room was marked with a thin red line of lace, and from there it was clear which side she inhabited and which parts had been lost and reclaimed. Jaida sat on her roommate's cleanly folded sheets, brandishing a hair dryer as if it were a deadly weapon.
"Well? Companion's pick. Any era, any place you ever wanted to visit?" Jaida said, smiling, as if she was only asking if Kristen might like to visit Los Angeles for break. "We can fuck with the Inquisition, conquer Casanova, be made goddesses in Tenochtitlan. We could pants Rick Santorum in high school, Kristen."
"You have a very narrow view of time travel," Kristen said. "Have you never heard of paradoxes?"
"Oh please, paradoxes quail at the sight of my very shadow," Jaida said. She presented the handle of the hair dryer. "I've built in a paradox detector, which is why we can't punch Hitler. I tried that. It would have sent the universe reeling. Kicking him was fine, though."
"Let me think," Kristen said. It occurred to her that she genuinely expected Jaida to have done as she'd said as much as she expected to see her hauled off cackling in a straitjacket, and she despaired a little inside. She must ask for something small, she knew, some time that her presence wouldn't effect greatly. "I've always been fascinated by the English punk scene of the 80's."
Jaida rolled her eyes at Kristen, clearly dissatisfied with her friend's scope of ambition, but said, "Oh fine, but see if I invite you to storm the Bastille with me now. Give me your hand, and don't mind the burning sensation, that's normal. I guess."
And, it turned out, time travel did burn. The air of the hair dryer stung only at the sides of her face at first, but soon all of her was assaulted by heat and the push of an invisible gale. Kristen had been in a burning room, once, when her old dorm nearly fell apart in fire because someone had handled matches poorly; she felt like she was there again, unable to move with flames creeping ever closer to her skin. It ended suddenly, jarringly. And with the realization that wherever she was, punk was not even a thing yet. Jaida appeared at her side not a moment later, utterly without fanfare. "So here we are, just like you wanted. England, 1689. Let's go punk watching."
"We're in the 1680's?" Kristen said. Jaida said, "Let's not lie to ourselves and just admit that the punks in the 1680's are far superior to the punks of the 1980's, all right? Besides, I'm not going near the 1980's unless I've got a hazmat suit to combat all that hair spray and neon."
"But - the 1680's! That's so -" Kristen stopped, feeling as if she was struck. "Did you say 1689? William Shakespeare's first play comes out this year!"
"And believe me when I tell you you're the only person excited about that," Jaida said. "Theater nerd."
Kristen seemed to agree with Olde England, even if Olde England was in turn suspicious of her and her ridiculous plaid pantaloons. Jaida couldn't blame them. It was almost worth it, to see the awe never leave her friend's face. If she'd stop acting as if buildings were more fascinating than Jaida, she might even reconsider the almost.
"I'm sorry for doubting you," Kristen said, after Jaida managed to appropriate a set of time-appropriate clothing for the both of them. "This has been the greatest day of my life. And I haven't even been born yet."
Naturally, it wasn't long before she was forced to reconsider.