Schrödinger's Hamlet

August 2016

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It's going to take a Herculean effort to get me through not melting down at someone today. I am not suffering fools and I can feel that desire for a fight deep in my bones. Punching a face would be great but since I cannot do that, I should vacillate between actually working and filling my need for brutality with drabbles. So if that tells you anything, request at your own discretion.
Choose one of your characters, one of my characters and a prompt. I'll write something for you (medium is my choice) and that's that. Please restrict your requests to 3 at a time!

Comments

Mar. 8th, 2013 05:45 pm (UTC)
Gale and Lizzie Bennet!

&I'm gonna go friend you now.
Mar. 8th, 2013 07:17 pm (UTC)
Hi lovely! :*
Mar. 11th, 2013 07:46 pm (UTC)
New York City is not the Seam. Gale, who is oblivious to almost anything that does not involve injustice, Katniss or Buffy, sits on a knoll in Central Park with Lizzie. There is a smile for her, a small squeeze to her shoulders with the broad width of his palm. It says I know and Wait, it will come and finally, If it does not come, be content in yourself.
Mar. 8th, 2013 06:07 pm (UTC)
Kara and Don, "my heart is closing like a fist"

SUFFICIENTLY BRUTAL I HOPE
Mar. 11th, 2013 04:05 pm (UTC)
She hates goodbye; the strained need for emotional performativity a prelude to inconsequential finality. But there are some nights (between the rye and the stars, when her heart is empty of its rage) that dictate she press her palms to his shoulders and rest her cheek against his chest. If you leave, I can't be mad. If you leave and you return to your children and your wife, I won't fault the stars.
Mar. 8th, 2013 06:28 pm (UTC)
TOO LAZY TO SIGN IN; DO WHAT YOU WILL

Gale & Finnick
I'm afraid that I walk everywhere on my hands. I don't trust where my feet want to take me.

Septimus & Neal
Can’t I be the answer you want?

Peggy & Bruce
Green hills and enemies: these things they make us sentimental inside
Mar. 11th, 2013 07:51 pm (UTC)
He amuses himself by claiming he is the greatest heist Neal Caffrey has ever perpetrated. Tangled in sheets too soft to be cotton at all (some sort of downy cloud, he suggests) and streaked with long smudges of phthalo blue, he reaches across Neal's chest to gesture toward the work hanging upon the easel at the end of the bed.

"Tell me. Tell me the worth of this one; make it a story."
Mar. 25th, 2013 04:33 pm (UTC)
The verdant Cumbrian hills seem to smooth Dr. Banner's lined face and Peggy imagines she can see the boy in him again. Peggy, whose own peace grows with the swollen fade of sunlight, crosses and uncrosses her legs on the gingham blanket.

"Eat your sandwich, Dr. Banner, we'll use the night to surprise them."
Mar. 25th, 2013 04:35 pm (UTC)
When Finnick's words die on the air, Gale scoffs. "I know how you found peace. I see you holding it in your arms."
Mar. 8th, 2013 06:39 pm (UTC)
Can we go old school, with Bella & Snape "the last day of spring"?
Mar. 8th, 2013 06:47 pm (UTC)
Hello, beautiful. Do you have a certain game in mind?
Mar. 8th, 2013 06:56 pm (UTC)
Hmm... I was thinking Blurred Lines when I made the comment but there's actually several to choose from aren't there? So if one stands out for you then pick that one! I'm flexible!
Mar. 8th, 2013 07:00 pm (UTC)
TJ & Kara - hugs

Peggy & James - clothes shopping (lol)
Mar. 25th, 2013 04:39 pm (UTC)
It isn't the first time that Kara held her guts back with her fist. She thinks it probably won't be the last (because Leoben's right, she's got a purpose and there is a reason for her presence in this place) but still and yet, the room swims and her knees begin to crumble while formlessness stains the corners of her vision.

No. As she fights to maintain both consciousness and a foothold on the cracked pavement, a pair of arms suddenly wrap around her. These are strong arms, these muscles she molded herself. And as she sinks back to the familiar chest, she sighs.

"Get me out of here."
Mar. 25th, 2013 04:41 pm (UTC)
"I'm not suggesting you fire a gun unless absolutely necessary," Peggy said, dangling the well-made shoulder holster off of one pointed index finger.

"Just try it on."
Mar. 8th, 2013 07:08 pm (UTC)
I am also too lazy to sign out!

Gale and Johanna: marshmallows xD
Mar. 8th, 2013 08:17 pm (UTC)
{ I tried to pick one Post-Modern author and use quotes from their work for each pairing... but I also really liked the last Septimus and Howard for Howard and Peggy. Obviously, pick whichever prompt you like, and feel free to mix and match them as you see fit. Also, I know you hate Vonnegut, so I'm sorry for using him anyway. In my defense, my dad used to read Vonnegut to me as a kid, so you know. Personal significance. And Mother Night is fantastic. }

Howard x Peggy - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
1. What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it.
2. It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.
3. Freedom is often the first casualty of war.

Septimus x Howard - Salman Rushdie
1. To understand just one life you have to swallow the world ... do you wonder, then, that I was a heavy child?
2. Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that's what.
3. From the beginning men used God to justify the unjustifiable.

Kara x Clint - Kurt Vonnegut
1. That is my principal objection to life, I think: It's too easy, when alive, to make perfectly horrible mistakes.
2. I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center.
3. It is a very mixed blessing to be brought back from the dead.

Clint x Peggy - Mikhail Bulgakov
1. What would your good do if evil didn't exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared?
2. No ID, no person. Remove the document—and you remove the man.
3. He was coming to understand that he could not come to rectify anything in his life, only forget.
Mar. 8th, 2013 08:46 pm (UTC)
LOVELY, good lord. As a note, I think my feelings toward Vonnegut are very similar to my feelings toward Flaubert. I initially read them at a very inopportune time and was not ready to be struck with such intense brilliance. Honestly, dude.

I'm re-reading again and because of you, Mother Night is going on the list.
Mar. 8th, 2013 09:23 pm (UTC)
Ughhh, Mother Night. It's probably weird that I love Sci-Fi, and my favorite (or second favorite, I can never decide) of his works contains virtually none of it. But the first time I read it, it broke my heart and made me think in all the right ways.

Slaughterhouse Five is really lovely too, but I can see why someone might pick it up and find aspects of it off-putting or pretentious. Mother Night still has Vonnegut's tone, but it felt different to me. When I try to describe the way he uses the narrator, metafiction and framing it as a historical document, it sounds like it's going to be pretentious. But something about the first person narrative with Campbell's voice and his evident regret gave the work an earnestness that others don't have to the same extent. Some of this is probably the headspace I was in when I read it, but it felt deeply personal and intimate in a way that none of the other works that I can think of (maybe even Slaughterhouse Five) did. Particularly the first half. IDEK apparently I have a lot of feelings about it.
Mar. 10th, 2013 09:27 pm (UTC)
There is no time to wipe the sweat from her face or re-arrange the curls that fall haphazardly down her back. She is home, she is beyond the care of the agents who were thanked with brusque professionality for their services. The doctor has been sent away. He is coming. I do not care; he is coming and I do not care if the tea is cold. There is little to prepare. There is little to say and that is the way she likes it. A press of his hand and a shared bottle of good Kentucky bourbon (saving the expensive stuff for victory).

This is the story that she will tell him:

She swore oaths at the men who bound her and spit blood in their faces. She listened as they spoke at doors and laughed when the onslaught of SHIELD rattled their cages. She found that she could not stop laughing until gentle hands pried her from the leather straps which held her at her ankles, her throat and her wrists. Then, when free, she knew that it was time to change.
Mar. 8th, 2013 09:48 pm (UTC)
SAVE ONE OR SOMETHING FOR ME. I will be back with prompts.
Mar. 8th, 2013 09:55 pm (UTC)
Okay, here is one!

Monsters
Off the grid.
Mar. 9th, 2013 03:54 pm (UTC)
This is the first time that she sees his face in four years. The first time he is not made up of lines of code; pixellated, darkened and obscured by disturbance in their connection, a feedback lost in the wires. She falls to perusal, her fingertips brushing idly by the leather straps which bind his apparatus to trace the fine ligature of his brow.

"We are ready."
Mar. 9th, 2013 04:30 pm (UTC)
Ahhhh CHILLS FOR ALWAYS.
Mar. 9th, 2013 05:03 pm (UTC)
What I should have written were death-throes. But I will save that for a time more brutal than this very fragile spring morning.
Mar. 9th, 2013 07:04 pm (UTC)
It is ugly and wintery here. I AM JUST SAYING.
Mar. 11th, 2013 04:36 pm (UTC)
The inescapable peace and tranquility of her protector's arms; the first time a warm, sea-infused breeze brushed her face; her father's palm upon the back of her neck. Flying.

In death, there is a second which stretches out eternally, a moment in which the last beacon of the soul travels the highway of the spine and lights each nerve a final time.

Unfocused and indistinct, Bruce Wayne's weary baritone is the diving board and into the inky blackness she plunges, fearless. I have never been afraid of shadows; I have ever been in love with the darkest night.
Mar. 11th, 2013 07:17 pm (UTC)




This is not okay.
Mar. 11th, 2013 07:41 pm (UTC)
You don't like it.

I'll delete it.
Mar. 11th, 2013 07:48 pm (UTC)
I LIKE IT LIKE A PUNCH TO THE HEART HOSKINS


There are not enough pillows in the world.
Mar. 11th, 2013 07:52 pm (UTC)
Oh god, your heart. Here, have a super fabulous pillow fort to protect it from punches.
Mar. 8th, 2013 10:01 pm (UTC)
:*
Mar. 8th, 2013 11:24 pm (UTC)
you must be living on wildfires, Drystan & Augusta
Mar. 8th, 2013 11:27 pm (UTC)
(Also spiralling on your icon alone has tipped me over into booking a ticket to see Ritter again.)
Mar. 9th, 2013 03:45 pm (UTC)
(GOOD. I have a ticket for him on my 30th!)
Mar. 11th, 2013 04:47 pm (UTC)
His face is calm; placid as the lake which stood behind their home now engulfed in flames. He even smiles a bit; but crookedly, vague as his tenuous comfort is the firm grip upon her waist. At least now they know where they stand, living on these wildfires, and now they know who knows.

"It could be worse."

The smoke unfurls in a black column, stretching its hungry fingers toward the heavens, more visible than even Riddle's new calling card. But he cannot help but remember his old friends' words before they would go out on patrol. And the LORD went before them by day in a pillar of a cloud, to lead them the way; and by night in a pillar of fire, to give them light ...

"They could have taken you."
Mar. 11th, 2013 08:41 pm (UTC)
._.
Mar. 11th, 2013 08:42 pm (UTC)
By which I mean I love it (of course!), augh.
Mar. 8th, 2013 11:38 pm (UTC)

You get songs.

1. Septimus x Walter
Red and Purple

2. Peggy x Stephen
The Future

3.Kara x Sherlock
Two Shots