OMG meme!

[keire_ke]

Stealing meme from kirathaune, because... well, it beats doing actual work. XD

Name me one of my fics and the prompt--before, after, in-between. I'll write a ficlet about something that happened just before, just after, or during the course of the fic's events.

edit: Also, a fun exercise: when writing, pause and explain the canon basis of the characterisation. Particularly interesting to consider when writing for a children's franchise which is best known for its magic and lol!Christianity content, as opposed to psychological profiling.

Comments

[kirathaune]

Hee! I got some fun prompts already.

Here's for you: Where the Story Ends, After.

[keire_ke]

[where the story ends -- after]

It was the end of his shift, at long last. Dr Gray forced a yawn down and nodded at the nurses manning the reception. They had an eventful night ahead of them. The Saturday nights usually were.

He had tentative plans to go and get blind drunk on his couch, hopefully alone, but knowing his luck H was going to show up -- how did the freak get his on-call schedule? -- and bring along the unpalatable, hundred-proof vodka he favoured.

As it happened, however, when he set foot out the hospital door he found before him the picture of abject misery, curled on a bench. “Don’t tell me you don’t know where you live,” Sebastian said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Huh? Oh, no. I have a licence, it’s got my address on it.”

“Then what, no cash for a cab?”

“I’ve got cash. I can walk, anyway, it’s only a few blocks away.” He paused and blinked. “I have no idea why I remember that.”

“It’s a good sign. Means that there’s likely no lasting brain damage.”

“I don’t remember anything else though.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’re scared to go back home, because you may find out it’s a cardboard box under the bridge.”

Son cracked a smile. “I dunno, I got the address. Probably not a box, then.”

“Stop whining for ten minutes. I’ll drive you,” Sebastian said, before he could think about it.

“You don’t have to,” Son started protesting.

“Shut up and get your arse into the car. I’m not telling you again.”

He got in the car. “Thank you.”

“Whatever. Where is it?” Upon hearing the address, Sebastian raised a brow. “Seriously? You live there and you’re worried to go back?”

“You’d be worried, too, if you didn’t remember nuthing!”

“Proper grammar, too, evidently.”

“Says you and your sentence fragments,” Son said with a pout, that would have been almost attractive, if Sebastian hadn’t had fixed his mind on the idea that this here was a patient.

The drive was short. The gate proved to be as impressive as Sebastian thought it would be. “Come on in, I have plans for the night,” he said, seeing that Son was reluctant to exit the car.

“What if somebody’s there?”

“Then I’m that much closer to freedom. You have your keys?”

He had. Sebastian wasn’t sure why he followed into the dark corridor, why he disrobed and came into the living room. Amnesia of such scope was exceedingly rare -- perhaps he wished to observe whether a familiar sight would cause a jolt of recognition.

It was, without a doubt, Son’s flat. There were pictures of him on the mantle, a diploma in his name, and the few decorations were eclectic and indicative of great sentiment rather than a coherent thought. Chief among them was an gun, locked in a glass cabinet. “You keep a gun in the house?”

“I guess,” Son said doubtfully.

Sebastian wasn’t sure why was that so strange. The gun wasn’t new -- there muzzle was dull, where it should be shiny, the handle bore hints of rust, and there was little doubt as to its usability. A memento, then, rather than a weapon.

“Can I get you anything?” Goku asked, as he cautiously looked out into the other door of the room and found there a kitchen.

“Whiskey,” Sebastian said without thinking. “I mean, tea. I’m driving.”

Goku smiled at him. “I might have some whiskey,” he said, opening a cupboard. “Ah! And it’s a good one, too! I wonder why, I don’t think I like whiskey. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll see about the tea.”

Sebastian cast one more look at the pistol. “The whiskey is fine,” he said. He could always get a cab.

[kirathaune]

perhaps he wished to observe whether a familiar sight would cause a jolt of recognition.

Yes, but to whom, Sebastian? XD

Looks like Kanzeon was busy making Jiroshin decorate the place!

Thank you! ♥

[keire_ke]

:) They would have to have that talk sooner or later, about how Sebastian inevitably wants to fondle the gun and it pisses him off, because he has no idea why. Luckily the need to fondle Goku causes much less angst. XD

<3