[Prompt Fics] Jun - Aug 2010
A reposting of my Prompt Fics for June, July & August 2010.
Theme: Lt. Groves
Date: 01/06/10
Prompt: PotC, Groves/Beckett, Pet
For: Sunsetdawn20
"Lord Beckett's in the stables, he bought a new horse I think," the servant told him. Intent on delivering the most probably highly important letter to the Lord personally, Lieutenant Groves thanked the servant and headed towards the stable. A young stable boy tending to Lord Beckett's majestic white stallion pointed Theodore to a stall near the back of the stable. Theodore dutifully headed towards the stall, pausing briefly on the way to stroke the face of a friendly brown filly that had stuck her nose out hopefully.
When Lieutenant Groves reached the stall, he was rather surprised by the sight before him. The creature Lord Beckett was calmly grooming was not a horse but a pony, and a very small pony at that. The little bay was barely up to Lord Beckett's waist, and Lord Beckett was by no means a tall man. The little pony bobbed his head up and down in a greeting to the Lieutenant, alerting its owner to Theodore's presence.
"Lieutenant?" Lord Beckett asked, resting his free hand on the pony's back.
"Sir! Uh... I have a letter for you," Theodore announced, holding up the parchment in question. Gently sighing, Lord Beckett informed his new pet that he would have to finish brushing him later, he had work to do.
Theme: Futuristic
Date: 14/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Beckett/Norrington, There and back again
For: Fairielore
The future had been frightening, and so a favour had been called, and it was time to do it all again. Nobody was supposed to know, nobody was supposed to remember the time that no longer was. But one man did. He knew. It took him a while to realise that somebody else knew, and that somebody else was the last person he expected... although when he did realise, he berated himself, for it was fairly obvious.
Of course Lord Beckett had a plan. Beckett had a plan for everything. Even for death, apparently. Not that Admiral Norrington had known of Beckett's death, for he did not live that long. But Beckett must've failed, must've died... that was the only reason that they were doing it all again. That time had been reversed, the flow pushed back to have another try, to be guided in a different direction.
Beckett must've been responsible for it, because he was the only one behaving differently from how things had happened. It was surreal, the way company men walked paths they had walked before, said things that he remembered them saying. Would do things he knew they would do, because they had done it all before. But no, Beckett did not. Beckett was behaving differently, and was far more cautious this time.
Beckett was becoming wary of Norrington. Of course some people did different things, made different choices. Coins landed the other side down sometimes. But as a general rule, only what was changed did change. And Beckett was not changing Norrington this much, not yet. There was no way for Norrington to know. And yet he did. He watched Beckett with the same wariness the Lord showed him.
Until one day, when they were sailing towards their new future, whatever that may be, that Norrington realised he had to know. He had to know what, he had to know why. He had to know how things were going to happen this time. He was not going to die again.
"Why." Norrington stared down at the Lord intensely.
"Why what?" Beckett's voice was low, cautious, dangerous.
"I know what you've done. I don't know how, and I don't know why. But I know." James continued to stare into the cloudy blue-green eyes before him.
"I know." Beckett's reply was simple.
"Then tell me why." James demanded.
"Why wouldn't I?" Beckett cocked his head to one side.
"You failed. So now you're trying again." James said acusingly.
"Nobody is supposed to know. Nobody is supposed to remember." Beckett's tone was warning once more.
"But I know. I remember. But how?"
"I cannot say."
"You did it," James pointed out.
"It had nothing to do with you, you should not have remembered." Beckett had misunderstood his question.
"No, now how do I remember, now did you do it?" James asked, desperate for the illusive answer.
"Time must be guided, Admiral. Should it play out in an unsatisfactory manner, it can be turned back and replayed until the outcomes are adequate." Beckett replied crypticly.
He said no more on the matter. All Norrington knew what it was time to do it all again. The Admiral felt a sense of foreboding. He was but a puppet. If Beckett had power over time, or held favour with someone or something that did, there was no way he could lose. There was nothing he could do. His sacrifice was for nought, so it was given back to him. Never had Admiral Norrington felt more insignificant.
Theme: Adolescence
Date: 15/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Beckett/Mercer, Pretty Young Thing
For: Cassiopaya
"Lord Beckett's bringing in his son today," one of the Company clerks said as he delivered a stack of letters to Mercer.
"Huh," Mercer replied, accepting the letters and glancing at each of them briefly.
"Like we need another stuck up brat barely into adulthood marching around like he owns the place," his colleague sighed.
"It might not be that bad," Mercer said with a shrug.
"He's the son of Lord Beckett," the other clerk reiterated, raising an eyebrow.
"Heh." Mercer smirked. Yes, it would be that bad, he decided.
Lord Beckett brushed past the clerks without sparing them a glance as he entered the office in his usual brusque manner. What was not usual was that a small lad was trailing behind him. Mercer found it difficult to believe the boy was sixteen. Young Cutler was like a porcelain doll, with pale skin, rounded cheeks, cherry lips, bright blue eyes and curly brown hair all wrapped up in an elaborate outfit to match his father's in style. The grown-up outfit made him look even more childish, in Mercer's opinion.
Cutler was a quiet boy; Mercer refused to think of him as a man. He seemed shy at first, but his inquisitive nature took over and he held himself with a confidence he had inherited from his commanding father. He said little, but listened well.
It wasn't until late in the afternoon that Mercer got a chance to speak with the boy alone.
"Yer a pretty young thing," the clerk commented.
"What do you want, clerk?" Cutler replied in his clipped accent, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"You, boy," Mercer grinned.
"Apologies, but I'm unavailable," Cutler replied, not phased in the least, and with that he pushed past the clerk and headed towards his father, seeking sanctuary in a subtle manner.
"One day, boy. One day."
Theme: Uniform
Date: 25/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Beckett/Mercer, Tailor made
For: Fairielore
Lord Beckett was a little bit different. He was a little bit shorter, a little bit rounder, a little bit richer, a little bit more powerful. He was a little bit different in every way. That meant he liked his things to be a little bit different, too. His boats were a little bit sturdier, a little bit faster, a little bit more heavily armed. His stock was a little bit different in quality, bought at a little lower price, and sold in places a little further out than many merchants tended to sail. He had his tea a little bit sweeter, his bed pillows were fluffed a little bit more than usual, and he wore a wig that was styled a little bit more military than other merchant Lords tended to wear. Even the people around him were a little bit different. Mr Mercer was a little bit more clever, a little bit more ruthless than the average clerk. His features were a little bit more hawkish, his ears heard a little more than most peoples' did, and his plans were always a little bit further in front of everyone else's. Mr Mercer, like everything else that surrounded Lord Beckett, was tailor made. Because Lord Beckett was a little bit different.
Theme: Apocalypse
Date: 26/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Beckett + Caesar, Behold, a horse that was white
For: Cassiopaya
The boat was small and insignicant. Its course was steady as it gently sailed towards wherever fate planned to lead it, whether that be well thought out or simply a whim. The boat's lone occupant had no control over the little vessel, and could do little but sit and watch, feeling small and insignifant. The boat was not alone, there were others sailing nearby, but none of them held anyone of consequence, so they were simply ignored.
There was no Flying Dutchman, for life had not been clung to long enough, death had been too instant, and that was the real shame. Not knowing where one was going was unnerving. Fate was to be trusted, for it was all that there was. But fate could be deceiving. The dark waters stirred slightly, and the sound of hoofbeats filled the air. They seemed so out of place, for merciless water spread in all directions until it blended with the eternal night at the horizon.
The hoofbeats became more prominent, and a form emerged from the inky blackness. A nightmarish stallion was galloping across the ocean, its hooves pounding into the ice that formed beneath him. Atop the white steed, a rider dressed in the black of death wielded a scythe. As he neared the little boat, understanding washed over its occupant as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. This rider was not unknown, and neither was his pale steed.
"Funny you should be the one they call Death," the boat's occupant spoke as the figure neared, an icy chill freezing the surface of the water around him. "I would have thought a bow and crown more fitting." Lord Beckett did not reply, he simply stared emotionlessly from glowing blue eyes. There was no doubt about the final destination of the small, insignificant little boat. If Caesar was the white horse, then his rider was certainly Death. That meant Hell followed close behind.
Theme: Single Sentence
Date: 31/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Barbossa/Beckett, Flip a coin
For: Fairielore
The pirate's coin spun so neatly as it was made its rise, flipping constantly between heads and tails, heads and tails, before making its descent into the lap of a small Lord, announcing to all present the new owner of the Black Pearl.
Theme: Single Sentence
Date: 31/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Beckett/Calypso, Wolf
For: Fairielore
Upon reaching the secluded shore the elegant seal rose out of the waves and morphed into a woman, smiling slightly as her dark eyes spotted the silver wolf sitting quite daintily on the tattered remains of a trading company flag.
Theme: Lt. Groves
Date: 01/06/10
Prompt: PotC, Groves/Beckett, Pet
For: Sunsetdawn20
"Lord Beckett's in the stables, he bought a new horse I think," the servant told him. Intent on delivering the most probably highly important letter to the Lord personally, Lieutenant Groves thanked the servant and headed towards the stable. A young stable boy tending to Lord Beckett's majestic white stallion pointed Theodore to a stall near the back of the stable. Theodore dutifully headed towards the stall, pausing briefly on the way to stroke the face of a friendly brown filly that had stuck her nose out hopefully.
When Lieutenant Groves reached the stall, he was rather surprised by the sight before him. The creature Lord Beckett was calmly grooming was not a horse but a pony, and a very small pony at that. The little bay was barely up to Lord Beckett's waist, and Lord Beckett was by no means a tall man. The little pony bobbed his head up and down in a greeting to the Lieutenant, alerting its owner to Theodore's presence.
"Lieutenant?" Lord Beckett asked, resting his free hand on the pony's back.
"Sir! Uh... I have a letter for you," Theodore announced, holding up the parchment in question. Gently sighing, Lord Beckett informed his new pet that he would have to finish brushing him later, he had work to do.
Theme: Futuristic
Date: 14/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Beckett/Norrington, There and back again
For: Fairielore
The future had been frightening, and so a favour had been called, and it was time to do it all again. Nobody was supposed to know, nobody was supposed to remember the time that no longer was. But one man did. He knew. It took him a while to realise that somebody else knew, and that somebody else was the last person he expected... although when he did realise, he berated himself, for it was fairly obvious.
Of course Lord Beckett had a plan. Beckett had a plan for everything. Even for death, apparently. Not that Admiral Norrington had known of Beckett's death, for he did not live that long. But Beckett must've failed, must've died... that was the only reason that they were doing it all again. That time had been reversed, the flow pushed back to have another try, to be guided in a different direction.
Beckett must've been responsible for it, because he was the only one behaving differently from how things had happened. It was surreal, the way company men walked paths they had walked before, said things that he remembered them saying. Would do things he knew they would do, because they had done it all before. But no, Beckett did not. Beckett was behaving differently, and was far more cautious this time.
Beckett was becoming wary of Norrington. Of course some people did different things, made different choices. Coins landed the other side down sometimes. But as a general rule, only what was changed did change. And Beckett was not changing Norrington this much, not yet. There was no way for Norrington to know. And yet he did. He watched Beckett with the same wariness the Lord showed him.
Until one day, when they were sailing towards their new future, whatever that may be, that Norrington realised he had to know. He had to know what, he had to know why. He had to know how things were going to happen this time. He was not going to die again.
"Why." Norrington stared down at the Lord intensely.
"Why what?" Beckett's voice was low, cautious, dangerous.
"I know what you've done. I don't know how, and I don't know why. But I know." James continued to stare into the cloudy blue-green eyes before him.
"I know." Beckett's reply was simple.
"Then tell me why." James demanded.
"Why wouldn't I?" Beckett cocked his head to one side.
"You failed. So now you're trying again." James said acusingly.
"Nobody is supposed to know. Nobody is supposed to remember." Beckett's tone was warning once more.
"But I know. I remember. But how?"
"I cannot say."
"You did it," James pointed out.
"It had nothing to do with you, you should not have remembered." Beckett had misunderstood his question.
"No, now how do I remember, now did you do it?" James asked, desperate for the illusive answer.
"Time must be guided, Admiral. Should it play out in an unsatisfactory manner, it can be turned back and replayed until the outcomes are adequate." Beckett replied crypticly.
He said no more on the matter. All Norrington knew what it was time to do it all again. The Admiral felt a sense of foreboding. He was but a puppet. If Beckett had power over time, or held favour with someone or something that did, there was no way he could lose. There was nothing he could do. His sacrifice was for nought, so it was given back to him. Never had Admiral Norrington felt more insignificant.
Theme: Adolescence
Date: 15/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Beckett/Mercer, Pretty Young Thing
For: Cassiopaya
"Lord Beckett's bringing in his son today," one of the Company clerks said as he delivered a stack of letters to Mercer.
"Huh," Mercer replied, accepting the letters and glancing at each of them briefly.
"Like we need another stuck up brat barely into adulthood marching around like he owns the place," his colleague sighed.
"It might not be that bad," Mercer said with a shrug.
"He's the son of Lord Beckett," the other clerk reiterated, raising an eyebrow.
"Heh." Mercer smirked. Yes, it would be that bad, he decided.
Lord Beckett brushed past the clerks without sparing them a glance as he entered the office in his usual brusque manner. What was not usual was that a small lad was trailing behind him. Mercer found it difficult to believe the boy was sixteen. Young Cutler was like a porcelain doll, with pale skin, rounded cheeks, cherry lips, bright blue eyes and curly brown hair all wrapped up in an elaborate outfit to match his father's in style. The grown-up outfit made him look even more childish, in Mercer's opinion.
Cutler was a quiet boy; Mercer refused to think of him as a man. He seemed shy at first, but his inquisitive nature took over and he held himself with a confidence he had inherited from his commanding father. He said little, but listened well.
It wasn't until late in the afternoon that Mercer got a chance to speak with the boy alone.
"Yer a pretty young thing," the clerk commented.
"What do you want, clerk?" Cutler replied in his clipped accent, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"You, boy," Mercer grinned.
"Apologies, but I'm unavailable," Cutler replied, not phased in the least, and with that he pushed past the clerk and headed towards his father, seeking sanctuary in a subtle manner.
"One day, boy. One day."
Theme: Uniform
Date: 25/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Beckett/Mercer, Tailor made
For: Fairielore
Lord Beckett was a little bit different. He was a little bit shorter, a little bit rounder, a little bit richer, a little bit more powerful. He was a little bit different in every way. That meant he liked his things to be a little bit different, too. His boats were a little bit sturdier, a little bit faster, a little bit more heavily armed. His stock was a little bit different in quality, bought at a little lower price, and sold in places a little further out than many merchants tended to sail. He had his tea a little bit sweeter, his bed pillows were fluffed a little bit more than usual, and he wore a wig that was styled a little bit more military than other merchant Lords tended to wear. Even the people around him were a little bit different. Mr Mercer was a little bit more clever, a little bit more ruthless than the average clerk. His features were a little bit more hawkish, his ears heard a little more than most peoples' did, and his plans were always a little bit further in front of everyone else's. Mr Mercer, like everything else that surrounded Lord Beckett, was tailor made. Because Lord Beckett was a little bit different.
Theme: Apocalypse
Date: 26/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Beckett + Caesar, Behold, a horse that was white
For: Cassiopaya
The boat was small and insignicant. Its course was steady as it gently sailed towards wherever fate planned to lead it, whether that be well thought out or simply a whim. The boat's lone occupant had no control over the little vessel, and could do little but sit and watch, feeling small and insignifant. The boat was not alone, there were others sailing nearby, but none of them held anyone of consequence, so they were simply ignored.
There was no Flying Dutchman, for life had not been clung to long enough, death had been too instant, and that was the real shame. Not knowing where one was going was unnerving. Fate was to be trusted, for it was all that there was. But fate could be deceiving. The dark waters stirred slightly, and the sound of hoofbeats filled the air. They seemed so out of place, for merciless water spread in all directions until it blended with the eternal night at the horizon.
The hoofbeats became more prominent, and a form emerged from the inky blackness. A nightmarish stallion was galloping across the ocean, its hooves pounding into the ice that formed beneath him. Atop the white steed, a rider dressed in the black of death wielded a scythe. As he neared the little boat, understanding washed over its occupant as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. This rider was not unknown, and neither was his pale steed.
"Funny you should be the one they call Death," the boat's occupant spoke as the figure neared, an icy chill freezing the surface of the water around him. "I would have thought a bow and crown more fitting." Lord Beckett did not reply, he simply stared emotionlessly from glowing blue eyes. There was no doubt about the final destination of the small, insignificant little boat. If Caesar was the white horse, then his rider was certainly Death. That meant Hell followed close behind.
Theme: Single Sentence
Date: 31/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Barbossa/Beckett, Flip a coin
For: Fairielore
The pirate's coin spun so neatly as it was made its rise, flipping constantly between heads and tails, heads and tails, before making its descent into the lap of a small Lord, announcing to all present the new owner of the Black Pearl.
Theme: Single Sentence
Date: 31/08/10
Prompt: PotC, Beckett/Calypso, Wolf
For: Fairielore
Upon reaching the secluded shore the elegant seal rose out of the waves and morphed into a woman, smiling slightly as her dark eyes spotted the silver wolf sitting quite daintily on the tattered remains of a trading company flag.