tanager: (odds)
Title: A Collection of Bingos
Notes: Pieces written for a bingo community, such as [community profile] origfic_bingo.


Bingo in Progress:
Community: [community profile] hc_bingo (card here)

electrocution panic attacks side effects robots / androids moving
confession in desperate situation forced to hurt somebody cages depression orphans
sex pollen death WILD CARD humiliation forced to participate in illegal / hurtful activity
hugs loss of home / shelter hallucinations invisibility plane crash
ostracised from society explosion unexpected consequences of planned soulbonding restrained imprisonment


see older bingo cards )

Stranger

Dec. 6th, 2012 10:55 pm
tanager: (fallen)
Title: Stranger
Warnings: Language, mention of violence
Word Count: 312


Another swallow. The half-empty mug clanks down on the counter. There’s a science to this, getting a good buzz going while keeping a white-knuckled grip on the clarity to see a gun pulled—a spark catch—even a spider skitter across the discolored wood wall—

To see the young officer maneuvering past the lively tables, advancing on Will’s nicely solitary corner of the counter. Will warns the man away with a glower; the intruder meets it with a quirking of the stupid grin on his face.

“You the one who took Rakarta back from the traitors?”

The obscenely cheerful question yanks memories by in a flash: boom-shriek-roar-boom-bellowing orders-bodies falling-charging forward-boom-dropping back-dark red on ground-bright red on walls: “THE PEOPLE WILL RULE.” Not my business.

“Fuck off,” he grunts, as the stranger claims the nearest of the half-dozen empty barstools beside him.

“Just got back in from Ettsboro,” the man continues, as if he’d been asked. He’s more drunk than Will ever lets himself get, but Will can’t quite dismiss him as one of the careless idiots who’ll be buried (if he’s lucky) in a few months. The man’s eyes, which haven’t budged from his yet, are a vivid blue. Their intensity, even wrapped in alcohol, drives off the tempting label of a happy fool. This is all wrong. His voice is brash, loud, and too familiar, and Will likes it.

With a long pull from his drink, the man settles in. He sets down his empty mug and calls for the bartender. “Another beer!”

Will stands abruptly. “I’m done for the night.”

He’s not going back to the barracks to play cards with the men, like some officers do in the evening. Bloody team bonding. He’ll keep them alive, if he can, and that’s it. They’re a fighting unit, not some two-point-four-child family. The word slashes into him, bleeding out his frustration.


Notes: I randomly generated Will's personality using this D&D personality generator. The guidelines I got were "Motivation: Protection, Nurturing, Family Values," "Instinct: Hostility, Aggression, Attack," and "Approach: Disciplined Commander." I really like the idea of defining a character by their motivation, instinct, and approach.

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Tanya

October 2013

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