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Feb 2018 Fanfic Challenge
purplecleric
From Babylonian star catalogues to Chinese astronomy, from the Hindu zodiac to Greek mythology, the constellation of Aquarius is always associated with water even though its name may vary.

The word prompt this month is … WATER.

***

Mirror, mirror on the wall…

A common trope is to use a character staring at their reflection to give insight into their emotions. They might give themselves a pep talk, they might smash the mirror in rage or they might study their gaunt reflection in despair.

What mirror monologue will your character deliver?
 
JustBrad
A water prompt.... why do I anticipate a (missing) shower scene from TT?
 
littlesue
JustBrad wrote:

A water prompt.... why do I anticipate a (missing) shower scene from TT?


He won't be able to see the keyboard due to the steam!!!Grin
Cold.....you don't know the meaning of cold.
Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of the window!!!


sues stories http://sjlittle.w...
sues youtube channel http://www.youtub...e54/videos
sues book shelf https://www.media...ne%20Shelf
rebel run video http://www.youtub...prqS-XZtLo
Lara and Sue's Stories http://lectorisal....webs.com/
 
Hugbot
A Better Thief

I wonder why Cally didn’t like my new outfit? Granted, it makes me look a bit like a medieval jester, but that suits me well, doesn’t it? And in any case, you shouldn’t punch people in the face just because you dislike their style of clothing.

I can still see the bruise on my temple. But this outfit is really great! All these lovely patches, the colours, the ...

Wait a moment. What is that? I can’t remember putting on a bracelet.

That is strange. I touch my wrist and my reflection also touches his wrist, as it should be. But while I feel nothing, I can clearly see that my counterpart in the mirror is playing with a delicate golden bracelet. It looks like a rather feminine type of adornment. I ... he must have nicked it somewhere. Maybe from Cally? While she flattened him?

When I step back, my reflection moves in sync. And yet there is this tiny infraction of symmetry on his wrist.

We are staring at each other. Finally, I wave at my reflection. I have done this many times just as a playful gesture. But this time it is different. This time I am honouring an even better thief than I am.

And he waves back.
Edited by Hugbot on 04 February 2018 10:26:55
 
purplecleric
Oooh, a nice touch of mystery there Hugbot - love it!
 
JustBrad
Avon sat on the edge of his bunk, slumped forward with his arms draped across his knees. There was a knock. Avon did not move. “What do you want?”

Cally’s voice was muffled by the door. “I’d like to talk, and preferably not through a door.”

Wincing as he slowly stood, Avon rose. He opened the door and took two steps back, letting her in, but not too far in.

She stared into his eyes for a moment before speaking. “I just wanted to make sure you are all right.”

Avon stifled a sigh. “I hurt, and I’m tired. Shrinker’s cohorts were rough, but not much rougher than the interrogators who questioned me right after Anna’s…. right after I was first captured back on Earth.”

“I wasn’t speaking of physical pain.”

Avon donned a thin smile. “No, you weren’t, but physical pain is the only pain I will allow to slow me down. Anything else can be dealt with by a healthy rational mind.”

Cally spoke softly. “In time, perhaps.”

“Why is it every time you take that patient tone, I get the feeling I’m being chastised.”

“Not at all,” Cally replied, “but if you want to talk…”

“I want to sleep.” Avon’s mouth twitched as he realized the words sounded harsher than he had intended, but he offered no apology.

Cally stepped back. “I’ll leave you to your rest. I didn’t mean to intrude. You humans have a saying, that the eyes are the window to the soul, and your eyes are…”

“My eyes are what, exactly?”

She bit her lip. “I’m not sure, but when you returned from that cellar, I looked deep in your eyes, and something other than the Avon I know was looking back. Scoff if you like, but it frightened me. Good night.”

Avon moved to his dresser and looked long in the mirror. “Mystical Auron nonsense.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Avon sat on the edge of his bunk, slumped forward with his arms draped across his knees. His hands rose to his temples in response to the throbbing pain. Why couldn’t he sleep? He’d done nothing wrong, it was simple survival. It was sheer luck that he stumbled across that microscopic fragment of neutron star, and he’d never have found it if he hadn’t been looking for Villa. When you think of it that way, hunting Villa had saved Villa’s life. So what was bothering him?

It was the way Villa looked at him now. It reminded him of Cally, the way she had looked at him the night Anna….

Avon moved to the dresser and looked long in the mirror.

The crash of breaking glass echoed through the empty corridors of Xenon base.
 
Vanessa Doffenshmirtz
Erised..

With apologies to J K Rowling


There was a mirror in the Liberator's treasure hold. Jenna had found it when she'd first gone exploring while Blake was down on Cygnus Alpha.

She'd looked into it ..She'd seem herself at the helm of the Liberator at the fore-front of a galactic Free Trader Empire. She had all the money and power she wanted.
The bounties on Blake and Avon had cleared her debts with the Federation. She was free but the ghosts of the men she'd betrayed haunted her every move.

---XOXOXO---

There was a mirror in the Liberator's treasure hold. Blake had found it while looking for some small trifle to placate a local tribal chief.

He'd looked into it...He saw himself as the first democratically elected leader of the New Federation. He'd managed to finally free the known worlds form the shackles they'd been bound with. He thought he'd brought peace to the galaxy but worlds were revolting against his rule.
Every day bought news of yet another colony rejecting him and in return he clamped down using all the tools he had declared illegal. He looked into the dead faces of Servalan and Travis who laughed with him at the destruction he waged across his empire.
---XOXOXO---
There was a mirror in the Liberator's treasure hold. Gan found it while he was clearing up the debris in a forgotten area.

He'd looked into it... He saw himself and his woman, living together. Their children and later their grand-children clustered around their knees. He could ignore the might of the Federation clawing at the edges of Zephron. He'd fight again if he needed to.
---XOXOXO---
There was a mirror in the Liberator's treasure hold. Cally found it when it called to her. It was sensitive only to Auronar she imagined.

She'd looked into it... Her clone group were there. Zelda in the fore-front leading an attack against the Mutoids that had tried to destroy the cloning facilities. Cally watched in horror as all her group-sibs died silent and alone.

---XOXOXO---
There was a mirror in the Liberator's treasure hold. Dayna found it was she was wandering in her still new grief.
She'd looked into it ...She saw herself finally kill Servalan. Her blood flowed from the wounds . So much blood. It covered Sarran and Earth . Dayna stood on a small patch of matter in the void surrounded by Servalan's blood.

---XOXOXO---
There was a mirror in the Liberator's treasure hold. Tarrant found it while looking for the Blake or Avon or whoever was supposed to be in charge of the Liberator.

He'd looked into it...He saw himself court-marshaled by 'Star Killer' Samor. Avon. Vila and Dayna tried to rescue him but Deeta kills them and presents the Liberator and ORAC to Servalan.

---XOXOXO---
There was a mirror in the Liberator's treasure hold. Avon had found it when Jenna had suggested he'd like to look around the Liberator.
He'd looked into it..He saw himself pull off the most successful computer hack of all times. He saw Anna with the vital Visas to escape. He saw Anna die. He knew then he'd soon follow. The fact he was still alive was a far worse punishment.

---XOXOXO---
There was a mirror in the Liberator's treasure hold. Vila found it when he was avoiding any kind of work.

He'd looked into it. He saw himself with a young woman in red fur clothing who turned into Servalan. He saw himself knife all of his Liberator crew-mates. He felt blood dripping from his hands as he lifted a piece of raw meat to his mouth.

---XOXOXO---
There was a mirror in the Scorpio's treasure hold. Soolin found it when..
There was no treasure hold on the Scorpio. Soolin looked at the ornate frame. The word Erised was engraved over the top.
Soolin looked into it. It showed her as a child with her family , being happy.

She walked behind the frame and pushed it down. The glass smashed.

Soolin walked away. She knew all about the futility of trusting something as simple as wanting something that easy to fulfill.
 
Anniew
She stares back at her, pale, ordinary, no gold gilding the contours of her face, no flashing fire in her eyes.

Who is she, this quiet girl? When did she lose her warrior self? And why did she let it go so tamely?

“Guilt,” the Girl in the mirror whispers. “And longing.”

Ah yes, she has had to live. Death refused her and she has stumbled on alone, seeking yet denied his embrace.

She is not aware of it but she watches her hand, the hand of a stranger, rise and touch her lips. She takes the kiss he left there and places it in her heart.

It is a promise, she thinks. Of life. Of death.

Time will tell.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
littlesue
Crumbs...Mirror, Mirror on the wall.
Everyone is being so quick this month...and may I say, so wonderful with their writing. School was never like this!!!
I really must get my thinking cap on.....
Cold.....you don't know the meaning of cold.
Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of the window!!!


sues stories http://sjlittle.w...
sues youtube channel http://www.youtub...e54/videos
sues book shelf https://www.media...ne%20Shelf
rebel run video http://www.youtub...prqS-XZtLo
Lara and Sue's Stories http://lectorisal....webs.com/
 
Travisina
Wow, such wonderful stories! I'm loving all the mirror tales, fantastic.
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
Lurena
Aaah! Lovely stories all! Reflections, emotions, sometimes one needs some courage to look at them...
Lara&Sue's Blake's 7 stories
*No, I am not. I am not expendable, I'm not stupid, and I'm not going.*
 
http://lectorisalutem.webs.com/
Rainesz
This is a sequel I had written to Dreamcatcher, from back in October. (In that, "Dreamcatcher" was Deva's computer program that found allies to the Resistance.) http://www.blakes...owstart=40 (I've since rewritten bits of it and put it on AO3.)
This second half has a more watery theme...

The Dreamcatcher, Part 2

The escape pod bobbed on the waves as the woman climbed out to have a look at her predicament. Just as she had thought: there was an undulating horizon of water as far as the eye could see. The lifepod had some emergency provisions—vacuum-packaged food, bottled water— but these would not last long. It also had the most basic of computers and she had sent a distress call by decoding a very familiar name.

"And as ever, I will wait for you, Blake," said Jenna Stannis. She sat down on the edge of the lifepod as it shifted atop the rolling hills of ocean. She was not particularly optimistic. "I really miss you too, Zen," she sighed.

Her lips were cracked with salt. She swigged from the last of her water. There had to be a water purification kit in the capsule somewhere.

Something bright was flying toward her, out of the sun. She squinted; the sun was eclipsed by a small flyer which hovered noisily over her lifepod, rippling the water and tangling her hair. Friend or foe? Did it even matter at this point?

The husky but polite masculine voice that addressed her was tinny and amplified, as if a sporting event was being announced. "Excuse me," it said from high above her pod-turned-boat, "but am I correct in in identifying you as one Jenna Stannis?"

"There is only one and she's me. Who should I identify you as? Are you 'The Dreamcatcher'?"

A head poked through the open flyer's window; the pilot's hair looked like it was on fire as it was backlit from the sinking sun. Down rolled a rescue ladder.

"That's the program you cracked," he told after he had pulled her aboard. "My name is Deva,"

"Do I need to ask you why you're covered in blood?"

"Ah." Deva looked stricken. "Many flies got caught in a web today and I fear it was all my fault. A nightmare got through and his name was Avon."
Edited by Rainesz on 04 February 2018 08:54:43
 
Travisina
Time dragged in the holding cell. Blake tried to contain his impatience while he waited for Varon to return with the order for his release. A couple of hours, the lawyer said, and according to Blake's wristwatch, less than an hour had passed. Repeated checking wouldn't make the time go any faster.

Looking up, Blake caught the eye of Vila, who was quietly relieving sleeping prisoners of their meagre possessions. The little thief gave him an unrepentant grin, then mimed 'Drink?’, pointing to a table at the far end of the cell, where stood a large container, ladle and mug.

Blake suddenly realised how thirsty he was. His mouth was dry and his head ached. Probably the lingering effects of the knock-out drug he'd been given in the court room. Or perhaps it was the dry, reconditioned air in the cell. By the time he reached the table, Vila had already downed a full mug, and was halfway through his second helping.

“Too bad it’s only water,” said Vila, wiping his mouth. “It’s ages since I’ve had anything stronger. Some wine would go down a treat.” The mug and ladle were attached to the table by thin chains. "Anyone would think they were worth stealing," he remarked, giving the chain a little tug as he passed the mug to Blake.

"Or maybe it's to stop us using them as weapons. Would you have taken them if they weren't attached?"

"Probably. You never know when something may come in useful. I hadn't thought of turning them into weapons, though. I wouldn't imagine there's much you could do with a mug.” Vila blinked, and gave a big yawn. “Might as well get some rest," he said. “I seem to have come over a bit tired.” He moved away to the row of beds, curled up on an empty bunk and fell instantly asleep.

Blake ladled water into the mug and took a grateful sip. It tasted pleasant - room temperature, with the familiar hint of sweetness. A far cry from the cold, bitter tang of the fresh stream outside the Dome.

Looking around, Blake saw that nearly all the other prisoners were now asleep or staring into space with blank eyed indifference. He took another sip. Was it his imagination or did this water taste sweeter than usual? If what Ravella had said was true, it would be laced with suppressants. Perhaps prisoners were given an even higher dose than ordinary citizens.

Blake put down the mug, still half full. He needed to keep a clear head. Varon would be back soon, and he had to provide the lawyer with every detail he could remember about the massacre he'd witnessed. He owed it to Ravella and the others to ensure that they received justice.

For their sake, he would go thirsty a while longer.

***

Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
rojroj
What a lovely story, Travisina! An interesting detail on how the Dome inhabitants have gotten used to the drugged and lukewarm water, whereas the fresh water from a stream doesn't taste good to them. Also, a nice moment in which we see Blake recovering his former self and exhibiting strength of will. I like the fact that he is more preoccupied with getting justice for the massacre victims than with clearing his name. So much good stuff in such a short fic!
 
https://www.facebook.com/blakes7rojblake/
mrsbookmark
Travisina! I loved that.
 
Travisina
Thanks for the nice comments!

Huge thanks also to Purplecleric and the Didcot Writers 'Shut Up & Write' session for the time and venue in which the story was hatched Smile
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
BradPaula
Water, and other memories

Water- you never give it a second thought- until you are without it. I grew up in the Delta slums, in a Dome, and it wasn’t until I was well into adulthood that I even tasted clean, fresh water! It was mind-blowing to realize that the disgusting liquid I had been drinking all of my life was so foul and that real water could taste so good.

The slums were as bad as you can imagine. Dirty, run down, a hot-bed of crime, poverty and despair. We were lucky to even have a flat. It was fifteen stories up a ramshackle building where the lift never worked. We had to trudge up and down those filthy stairs several times a day and we were glad of it as many in our situation had no flat at all and were forced to live rough on the streets.

We had heat- occasionally- and water too. But not the kind many of you are used to. Ours was slightly cloudy in color and had a bit of a smell. It was years before I realized it was not only the minimal filtering and disinfecting the Federation had done but the chemical suppressants put in our drinking supply to keep us docile. It worked, a bit, but I’ll never forget the odd taste it had for the rest of my life.

If we were lucky, the Feds would hose down our street once or twice a year. All the homeless people either moved or were soaked with giant fire hoses which swept clean the detritus and filth of the streets we called home. But before long, the dirt was back, along with plenty of people who lived in boxes or hastily-built shacks of thrown away planks. And the smell- you could cut it with a knife. I’m amazed I survived it all.

Of course before long the slum was just a pleasant memory, as when I reached the age of 15 I was caught pilfering from a shop down the street and was sent to the Academy, our name for the Federation’s criminal work camp for youths. At least the rooms were clean and we got three square meals per day. The water was still the same- clouded and smelling faintly of chemicals. But it was an improvement, even being held as a ‘ward’ of the system. Before long, I managed to escape and then eventually ended up on Cygnus Alpha. From a slum kid in a Dome to a well-known thief, and even occasional freedom fighter.

Of course, now, I can have as much clean water as I want. But I don’t want it. I would rather my glass be filled with soma, and a dash of adrenalin. That’s my drink now. And you know what, the alcohol dulls the memories of my earlier life, and I’m glad of it. Oh, it’s still a life fraught with danger, despair and crime, but at least I can live it as I want. So I’ve come a great distance from those dirty days in the Dome. I’m a someone and not a no one. I’m Vila Restal. Thief extraordinaire. Here, have a drink with me.
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
 
Travisina
That's wonderful, Paula! A great insight into my fave character Smile
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
Anniew
Fabulous stories so far.

Dorian did himself pretty well, Avon acknowledged, taking in the details of the suite with a sweeping, cautious glance. He registered a comfortable bed, fitted furniture and a soft rug before scrutinising the mirror and light fittings. A careful examination revealed nothing suspicious.... at least nothing he could readily identify as a bug or surveillance device. Of course that didn’t rule out the possibility that there were any but he was too tired to worry about that. He was more weary than he’d been since his time on the run. Well. He refused to dwell on that memory but he did need to rest. A wardrobe door revealed nothing more sinister than a couple of outfits... black leather ... studded... probably his size. Odd co-incidence. He ran a hand over the leather. It was supple, cool to the touch. He moved on to another door. It opened onto a white tiled bathroom.

Inside, there was the usual lavatory but no shower as he’d expected. Instead there was a white wash-basin and a deep, curved bath, both rather vulgarly finished with gold taps. A bath. How long since he’d enjoyed immersion in water instead of cleansing himself via sonic vibration? Not even The Liberator had provided the luxury of a water bath... in fact water there had been in relatively short supply, recycled endlessly and only available for drinking, yet its availability had seemed miraculous after the privations of The London.

Xenon it seemed could offer even more. His mind flitted over the possibility of getting rid of its owner and his blonde assistant. His bodyguard, perhaps? Could they take it over? Use it as a base. They would be safe here. Xenon was far from the usual Federation patrol paths. He’d make plans...

A wide yawn escaped him and weariness settled like a weight on his head and shoulders. He would be glad to sink down onto the bed with its enticing white sheets.

The smell of his sweat, stale and acrid, stopped him. He noticed the dust adhering to his boots. Tired though he was, he needed a bath before he allowed himself to rest.

Later he woke with a start, and hauled himself, shivering, out of the now greyish, cold water. To his relief everything was as he’d left it, gun hidden under the pile of dirty clothes. He thought about running a check on it but the need to sleep hit him again like a boulder. He just had time crawl between the white sheets before it claimed him.
Edited by Anniew on 12 February 2018 18:19:14
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
BradPaula
Travisina wrote:

That's wonderful, Paula! A great insight into my fave character Smile


*blush* Thanks. I liked your story too!
Edited by BradPaula on 13 February 2018 00:07:04
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
 
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