strictly BYOB

[whynot]

I'm going to try something. It requires your participation! And perhaps some sparkly text:

~*ROUND-ROBIN COMMENTFIC PARTY!!*~

That's right! Right here on this post. Here's how it works, I think:

1. Anyone can reply to this post with commentfic. Anyone can start, and anyone can continue. That's right, even you!

2. Any genre, any ship, any fandom. Crossovers okay!

3. One commentfic thread is allowed to branch off into several commentfic threads. TITS, you can click 'Reply to This' at any point in an established thread.

4. You can comment with just one sentence, or you can go up to the character limit. If you exceed the character limit, post two comments. Whatever.

5. Threads will go for as long as they have to.

6. If this is your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight.


These guidelines will be added to/modified as the situation arises. Questions/concerns? Go!

Comments

because i always need more edmund/effy

[marycontraire.livejournal.com]

The first time it happens, she's almost sure she's hallucinating the whole thing. She is, after all, drugged out of her mind. One minute she's fucking around with some stolen sparklers in the woods, and the next she's stumbling through this weird little cave and out onto a beach in broad daylight. It was nighttime before-- she knows because the part of her brain that isn't reeling with the unexpected blue of the water remembers the way the sparklers lit up the dark clearing and the way the distant city lights of Bristol twinkled beyond the tops of the trees.

Effy isn't alone on the beach. A few paces down towards the water, a boy with a sword is staring at her in shock. He opens his mouth, as if to ask her where the fuck she came from, but then seems to think better of it and snaps it shut.

Effy smiles and says nothing back.

[twoskeletons.livejournal.com]

Edmund glances at her wand, which is already sparking fire like stars, and instincts kick in. He raises his sword. "State your business in Narnia, witch," he commands.

Her pupils are dilated, her hair is askew, and she smells of alcohol and woodsmoke. She says, "What a big sword you have."

[marycontraire.livejournal.com]

The boy advances, sword still extended, so Effy thinks it's best to tell him, "You can't kill me with that."

This seems to make him even more suspicious. "Why not?"

"Because you're just a figment of my imagination."

She steps forward, closing the remaining distance between them, and, as predicted, the boy does not run her through. He still looks angry, though, so she places the still-sputtering sparkler in his bony hand. "You can keep it," she says. Then she turns, and starts back to the small cave.

"Where are you going, witch?" A voice calls behind her. His voice is a strange mix of a teenager's timbre and an old man's accent.

"Come, if you like," she calls out. She does not stop walking. And she does not look back.

[twoskeletons.livejournal.com]

Witches cannot do magic without their wands, he reminds himself as he puts out the sparks in the sand. But maybe she is still a sorceress trying to trick him. Then again, maybe she's just lost.

Then again, this is Narnia, and the unexpected happens as a matter of course. Sometimes you just follow your gut, and trust in Aslan.

The girl looks over her shoulder, eyes dark and expression unreadable, and his gut does something funny. "Or stay," she says, "if you've got better things to do."

He follows.