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winterThe last batch of the request drabbles from two weeks ago, though ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fyrie's turned into something much closer to a full story. I still owe Van Helsing to two people, and am still working on it. Incidentally, it's not that I haven't been writing fiction lately: I have, but it's a long Tanz der Vampire series that will need to be posted (and read) in order, and is still missing the first two installments.
Forazarias: Bruce Wayne as a Jedi Sith apprentice. Part of the Will to Act verse.
TRUTH AND THE BAT
The cave is vast, humid, full of shadow. Dispersed light falls through cracks in the stone, throwing every edge into shimmering softness.
Something flutters in the darkness, and Bruce knows it cannot be real. This is Dagobah, not the city-planet of Gotham, second only to Coruscant in megalopolis sprawl. There are swamp creatures and tree critters, but not the sharp-winged, razor-toothed flying predators of Gotham's night.
In the distance, he hears pearls falling on pavement. There is a lightsaber on his belt. Frozen by fear, he cannot move his hand.
Then he moves the fear, letting it fill him, letting it bond to the circulation of the Force in his veins. Letting it move him in turn, the lightsaber's blade a flash of crimson lightning in the darkness.
A body falls at his feet, cut in two. At first it's a clone trooper, masked and faceless. Then a Twi'lek slaver he'd met on Ord Mantell. Chill, his parents' murderer. Carmine Falcone. His father. Himself.
As he feels the Gotham bat settle on his shoulder, Bruce knows that once he emerges from the cave, the man who was once the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn will smile in approval.
Fear is his ally now, and he is free.
~FIN~
Forfyrie, Viktor from Underworld meets Draculea. Incidentally, apart from another drabble where Draculea muscled in while it was supposed to be VH!Vlad, this is the first formal posted outing of Draculea, also known as my historical!vampire!Dracula.
FOR ALL THE SULTAN'S GOLD
Transylvania, Anno Domini 1503; Year of our Lord 7012 of the Eastern reckoning
The leaves on the flagstones of the wall walk cracked and rustled under Viktor's boots. The battlements to his side were blackened with fire and torn already by earthquakes. None living in this place, but it was the one he would start in.
All this would not have happened, had he reigned in the previous century, he thought. Marcus had ignored the first rumours of a local lordling's strange habits, of impossible escapes and too precisely devastating plagues. They still did not know who had bitten the Wallachian, nor when, but the grave at Snagov had been empty when Kraven had checked it.
Enough of it. Viktor would find the man, tear his head off and watch as the last of that cursed blood drained across his boots. There were rules to be contended with, his rules, and none of them provided for a madman to be given this power.
In the darkness over Poenari Castle, a wolf howled. Paws skidded over stone.
Viktor turned, unsheathing his sword with a curse. But it was no wolf in the doorway of the staircase, not this broad shadow, a tattered cloak flapping in the breeze. The scent of blood, fresh and old, wove through the air.
"I am an Elder of the Great Coven," Viktor declared. "Show yourself."
The shadow - the creature - moved forward, conveying the suggestion of a crawl even as it remained upright. Still the starlight shied away from it.
The voice was rusty with disuse, but the Latin was melodious, precise. "Are you a descendant of Corvinus?"
"No. I am Viktor. But I bear in me the power of Corvinus and the blessing of his blood. All who bear it obey the Elders, and this is your place also."
That drew a low, rich laugh, the figure bending forward either in mirth or in preparation to attack. "I met a Corvinus, once, who would have me bend to his will. I betrayed him."
Viktor took a step forward, letting his sword arm hang free, unthreatening. "There is so much we can offer you."
"That sounds familiar, too." This close, the shape of the creature's head was visible in the shadows, elegant features framed by long, straight hair. "What will it be? Power? Knowledge? Women? Boys?"
"What would you want?" Behind his back, Viktor tensed his arm, testing the balance of the blade.
Movement, pain. The pure sharp sound of metal on stone as his sword flew over the castle wall, and darkness and stars flashing as he was pushed over the battlements, falling himself-
Suspended in mid-motion, a long-fingered hand around his throat.
The starlight fell on the creature openly now. Pale skin with a red flush on the cheeks and lips, the mouth open to reveal fangs longer than they should be. Werewolf teeth, but a vampire's face, vampire's breath. The touch was cold, chilling, and the smell under the blood was of old parchment and crumbling gravestones.
Viktor bared his own fangs as he tore at the hand squeezing his throat. He hissed and knew his eyes were burning blue with the power of his blood. But what answered him was an inhuman growl and eyes the colour of poison.
"I was offered all for my obedience and my chains, Viktor of the Great Coven," the monster said, not even breathing hard. "My freedom is not for sale. Not for all the sultan's gold, not for all the sultan's love, and not for anything the pathetic crawling creatures you call vampires can offer me."
Viktor arched his neck, fighting for a gulp of air. "What are you?" he choked out.
In Vlad Draculea's smile, there was the warlord and the defender of the faith, the tyrant and the traitor. "Did you think Corvinus was the only one to make a deal with the Devil?"
From the battlements of Poenari Castle to the waters of the Princess's River below, it was a long way to fall.
~FIN~
fyrie's turned into something much closer to a full story. I still owe Van Helsing to two people, and am still working on it. Incidentally, it's not that I haven't been writing fiction lately: I have, but it's a long Tanz der Vampire series that will need to be posted (and read) in order, and is still missing the first two installments.For
azarias: Bruce Wayne as a TRUTH AND THE BAT
The cave is vast, humid, full of shadow. Dispersed light falls through cracks in the stone, throwing every edge into shimmering softness.
Something flutters in the darkness, and Bruce knows it cannot be real. This is Dagobah, not the city-planet of Gotham, second only to Coruscant in megalopolis sprawl. There are swamp creatures and tree critters, but not the sharp-winged, razor-toothed flying predators of Gotham's night.
In the distance, he hears pearls falling on pavement. There is a lightsaber on his belt. Frozen by fear, he cannot move his hand.
Then he moves the fear, letting it fill him, letting it bond to the circulation of the Force in his veins. Letting it move him in turn, the lightsaber's blade a flash of crimson lightning in the darkness.
A body falls at his feet, cut in two. At first it's a clone trooper, masked and faceless. Then a Twi'lek slaver he'd met on Ord Mantell. Chill, his parents' murderer. Carmine Falcone. His father. Himself.
As he feels the Gotham bat settle on his shoulder, Bruce knows that once he emerges from the cave, the man who was once the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn will smile in approval.
Fear is his ally now, and he is free.
~FIN~
For
fyrie, Viktor from Underworld meets Draculea. Incidentally, apart from another drabble where Draculea muscled in while it was supposed to be VH!Vlad, this is the first formal posted outing of Draculea, also known as my historical!vampire!Dracula.FOR ALL THE SULTAN'S GOLD
Transylvania, Anno Domini 1503; Year of our Lord 7012 of the Eastern reckoning
The leaves on the flagstones of the wall walk cracked and rustled under Viktor's boots. The battlements to his side were blackened with fire and torn already by earthquakes. None living in this place, but it was the one he would start in.
All this would not have happened, had he reigned in the previous century, he thought. Marcus had ignored the first rumours of a local lordling's strange habits, of impossible escapes and too precisely devastating plagues. They still did not know who had bitten the Wallachian, nor when, but the grave at Snagov had been empty when Kraven had checked it.
Enough of it. Viktor would find the man, tear his head off and watch as the last of that cursed blood drained across his boots. There were rules to be contended with, his rules, and none of them provided for a madman to be given this power.
In the darkness over Poenari Castle, a wolf howled. Paws skidded over stone.
Viktor turned, unsheathing his sword with a curse. But it was no wolf in the doorway of the staircase, not this broad shadow, a tattered cloak flapping in the breeze. The scent of blood, fresh and old, wove through the air.
"I am an Elder of the Great Coven," Viktor declared. "Show yourself."
The shadow - the creature - moved forward, conveying the suggestion of a crawl even as it remained upright. Still the starlight shied away from it.
The voice was rusty with disuse, but the Latin was melodious, precise. "Are you a descendant of Corvinus?"
"No. I am Viktor. But I bear in me the power of Corvinus and the blessing of his blood. All who bear it obey the Elders, and this is your place also."
That drew a low, rich laugh, the figure bending forward either in mirth or in preparation to attack. "I met a Corvinus, once, who would have me bend to his will. I betrayed him."
Viktor took a step forward, letting his sword arm hang free, unthreatening. "There is so much we can offer you."
"That sounds familiar, too." This close, the shape of the creature's head was visible in the shadows, elegant features framed by long, straight hair. "What will it be? Power? Knowledge? Women? Boys?"
"What would you want?" Behind his back, Viktor tensed his arm, testing the balance of the blade.
Movement, pain. The pure sharp sound of metal on stone as his sword flew over the castle wall, and darkness and stars flashing as he was pushed over the battlements, falling himself-
Suspended in mid-motion, a long-fingered hand around his throat.
The starlight fell on the creature openly now. Pale skin with a red flush on the cheeks and lips, the mouth open to reveal fangs longer than they should be. Werewolf teeth, but a vampire's face, vampire's breath. The touch was cold, chilling, and the smell under the blood was of old parchment and crumbling gravestones.
Viktor bared his own fangs as he tore at the hand squeezing his throat. He hissed and knew his eyes were burning blue with the power of his blood. But what answered him was an inhuman growl and eyes the colour of poison.
"I was offered all for my obedience and my chains, Viktor of the Great Coven," the monster said, not even breathing hard. "My freedom is not for sale. Not for all the sultan's gold, not for all the sultan's love, and not for anything the pathetic crawling creatures you call vampires can offer me."
Viktor arched his neck, fighting for a gulp of air. "What are you?" he choked out.
In Vlad Draculea's smile, there was the warlord and the defender of the faith, the tyrant and the traitor. "Did you think Corvinus was the only one to make a deal with the Devil?"
From the battlements of Poenari Castle to the waters of the Princess's River below, it was a long way to fall.
~FIN~
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Eee!
Date: 2006-04-16 12:58 pm (UTC)I'm officially sold on Darth Batman (not that it was a hard sell) and Darth Qui-gon is Ra's, only just that much cooler.
And then: Viktor from Underworld meets Draculea. Once again, I was drinking! You'd think I would'v learned.
Re: Eee!
Date: 2006-04-16 01:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-16 02:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-16 03:56 pm (UTC)God, I shouldn't love this idea as much as I do... *drools delicately*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-16 04:00 pm (UTC)I need to write that one, soon.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-16 08:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-17 09:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-18 12:32 pm (UTC)Fear is his ally now, and he is free.
Bruce as a Sith is fairly worrisome, since it means he's abandoned his "does not kill" rule -- and Batman without *that* stop is a monster on the hoof.
However, it'd be funny to see him being harassed by Qui-Gon, who would *make* him work on his *issues*.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-18 12:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-18 12:38 pm (UTC)I mean, the first time Bruce decides to be a stubborn jackass about something that Qui-Gon disagrees with, the two of them are going to butt heads like a pair of bighorn rams.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-18 12:41 pm (UTC)