Double Drabble: Gloomy Mood Title: Gloomy Mood Author: badly_knitted Characters: Ianto. Rating: PG Written For: Challenge 941: Gloomy at tw100. Spoilers: After End of Days. Summary: Ianto is feeling justifiably fed up. Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. A/N: Double drabble. The gloomy weather fitted Ianto’s gloomy mood. All the light and fun seemed to have gone out of his life since Jack swanned off to… wherever, and all that was left was the day in, day out drudgery of his job. Considering how much busier he was now than he had been before, and he’d already been doing the jobs of three people when Jack was still here, he shouldn’t have time to mope, but he’d always excelled at multitasking. Today, Cardiff was labouring under a dreary, relentless drizzle, the kind of rain that didn’t seem too bad until you’d been out in it for a while and realised it had stealthily soaked right through everything you were wearing, despite your umbrella. Welsh rain could be sneaky. Shivering, Ianto trudged along the street, feeling hard done by, which was fair enough. He’d already been out with the team most of the morning, dealing with a rogue Weevil, and now he’d been dispatched to fetch lunch! Like no one else was capable of handling the lunch run. He had a good mind to simply go home and take the afternoon off, except that would be petty. He was better than that. The End https://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/3014841.html #doubledrabble #gloomymood #moodauthor #ianto #characters #jack #end #challenge #rss #feeds #linksharing #qwibbit

Doctor Who Drabble: Safe Haven Title: Safe Haven Author: badly_knitted Characters: OFC, The Doctor. Rating: G Written For: Challenge 1073: ‘Shelter’ at dw100. Spoilers: Nada. Summary: It’s not the kind of shelter Petra was seeking, but it will do. Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who, or the characters. Petra found herself in a room bigger than most taverns, with strange machinery in the middle, and a soft glow coming from the walls. “How is this possible?” “It’s magic!” the strange man told her. “Well, actually it’s science, but science is a lot like magic. I’m the Doctor, and this is my TARDIS.” She’d been seeking shelter from the cold night, but now Petra wondered if she’d failed to find safety and was instead dying from exposure. Everything about this peculiar box seemed impossible! “Would you like some tea?” “Yes, please.” Real or not, somehow, she felt safe here. The End https://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/3015009.html #safehaven #havenauthor #petra #characters #ofc #challenge #well #yes #tardis #end #rss #feeds #linksharing #qwibbit

FAKE Triple Drabble: Unconventional Title: Unconventional Fandom: FAKE Author: badly_knitted Characters: Dee, Ryo, OCs. Rating: PG Setting: After the manga. Summary: Dee and Ryo make some new friends. Written Using: The dw100 prompt ‘Reverse The Polarity’. Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh. A/N: Triple drabble. This was not how Ryo and Dee had expected to spend their day. They’d been visiting a crime scene at the hotel, a violent assault and robbery in one of the penthouse suites, and after talking with the forensics experts, had entered the elevator to return to the basement garage… Unsurprisingly, as they headed down, several people boarded the elevator with them; all were in costume for the science fiction convention being held in one of the function rooms. That had been fine; the convention attendees had no clue that the two men in the elevator were cops, and Dee and Ryo weren’t about to tell them, but then the elevator stopped, somewhere between floors. “What happened?” one of the people dressed like a character from a popular Sci-Fi show asked. “Why did we stop?” He looked wildly about. “Are we stuck in here? I’m attending a panel in half an hour, and I wanted to check out the merchants’ room first!” “Nobody panic.” Ryo pressed the button to summon assistance. “I’m sure someone will be along to rescue us soon.” “Maybe we can rescue ourselves!” one of the others suggested. Leaning against the rear wall, looking perfectly relaxed, Dee chuckled. “How? You gonna reverse the polarity or somethin’?” Wide-eyed, the first conventiongoer turned to Dee. “D’you think that would work?” Dee rolled his eyes. “Only in a science fiction show, not in real life.” “Then why’d you suggest it?” “I was tryin’ to lighten the mood in here. Guess it didn’t work.” “Who’re you guys supposed to be anyway?” “Nobody,” Ryo cut in before tempers could begin to fray. “Not everyone in the hotel is here for the convention.” He smiled. “Your costumes are all very impressive though.” By the time they were rescued, everyone was on first-name terms. The End https://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/3015389.html #tripledrabble #dee #unconventionalfandom #fake #fakeauthor #ryo #sanamimatoh #nobody #characters #setting #rss #feeds #linksharing #qwibbit

Fic: Wandering Spirits Title: Wandering Spirits Author: badly_knitted Characters: Ianto, Tosh. Rating: PG Spoilers: Set after Exit Wounds. Summary: Torchwood’s archives have always been haunted, but some ghosts are more welcome than others. Word Count: 1506 Written For: Prompt 311 – Haunted at fandomweekly. Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC. Almost two months had passed since John Hart and Jack’s brother, Gray, had wreaked havoc, bombing Cardiff and tearing Torchwood apart. Two months, eight weeks, give or take a few days, and what was left of the team were gradually adjusting to empty spaces and new routines. They were coping, more or less, although they were well aware of being shorthanded. Replacing their fallen friends was still too painful for any of them to contemplate, at present. Eventually, they knew there would be no choice; they couldn’t continue the way they were indefinitely, each of them trying to do the work of several people, but first they needed the time and space to heal from the worst of their grief. It helped that Owen was currently haunting the Hub. Ianto saw the former medic most days, and he always made time for a chat, grateful for the company. Jack saw Owen less often, and not as clearly, but was becoming more accepting of his presence. Ianto suspected Jack’s guilt was getting in the way a bit; he blamed himself for Gray’s actions, even though Ianto kept telling him that he wasn’t responsible, and so he didn’t feel he deserved the comfort of spending time with his late colleague. Gwen hadn’t seen Owen at all, or so she insisted, but she’d tended to shy away from any mention of ghosts and hauntings even before their friends died. Perhaps she’d eventually come around, but although she obviously believed in and feared ghosts, she didn’t seem open-minded enough to see them, let alone converse with them. Ianto felt sorry for her; she was shutting herself off from a source of comfort. An odd one, yes, but still… Hanging out with Owen in the archives always made Ianto feel better. The banter and snark were so reassuringly familiar. He hadn’t seen Owen yet today though; he’d been out on a Rift retrieval around the time the medic usually stopped by, but now he was downstairs in the area he’d long ago set up as a sort of office, photographing and cataloguing the latest Rift delivery. It wasn’t anything interesting, and it was badly damaged anyway, but it still needed to be entered into the archive database and assigned a place on the shelves. It might be needed for parts at some point; even broken things had their uses. Halfway through the cataloguing process, something, perhaps a subtle change in the air temperature, made him look up. He half expected to see Owen standing there, smugly smirking at him, but it wasn’t the late Dr Harper. “Tosh. Hello. I was beginning to think you must have moved on without stopping by for a visit. Have you seen Owen? He lurks about down here a fair bit, trying to make the acquaintance of the other…” Ianto shook his head. “Not sure if ‘residents’ would be accurate. That implies they live here, and… Well, they’re ghosts, so obviously they don’t live, as such.” He forced himself to shup up; this was his best friend, and she deserved better than his inane ramblings. “How are you?” “You… you can see me?” Ianto had to strain his ears to hear the faint words, little more than a breath of non-existent air. “Yes, Tosh, I can see you. You’re a bit faint, sort of misty, but so was Owen to start with. Manifesting just takes practice, or so Owen claims. I’m sure you’ll figure it out quickly enough; if he can do it, so can you. You were always way smarter than him.” He smiled encouragingly. “You sound a bit faint too, so you might want to speak up a bit, if you can. It’s good to see you. I miss you.” That drew a sad smile from Tosh. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. You were so brave, and you saved so many lives; I just wish there’d been something we could have done. Jack blames himself, of course, he always does, but it’s not his fault either. Maybe you could convince him of that. I’ve tried, and so has Owen, but neither of us has been able to get through to him yet. You know Jack, blames himself for every little thing that goes wrong, then wallows in self-recrimination for weeks.” “Owen is still undead?” Tosh sounded surprised. “No, he’s completely dead now, the same as you. Spends his time haunting, says even ghosts need hobbies. Apparently, he enjoys watching the couple who’ve moved into his old flat; he spends most nights there, exercising his voyeuristic tendencies. Says those who can’t do should at least get to watch those who can. Part of me wants to warn them they’re being haunted by a pervert, a peeping Owen, but I doubt they’d believe me, and he’s not really doing any harm. He claims they’re exhibitionists anyway.” “So I’m really dead? I’m not just imagining this?” “No. I’m sorry, Tosh; by the time we found you, you’d lost too much blood. Even if we’d tried to get you to a hospital, it wouldn’t have changed anything. If it’s any consolation though, we gave you a lovely funeral. Your parents and your grandfather came up from London. We put them up in the St David’s for a few days, all expenses paid. You’re buried in Cathay’s Cemetery. Jack bought you a really pretty plot, and planted a Japanese maple for you. We wanted the best for you. We couldn’t bury Owen, for obvious reasons. If there were any remains, they would have been too radioactive.” “I died.” There was a distant expression on Tosh’s face, as if she’d barely heard a word of what Ianto had just told her. “Yes.” With a breathy little sigh, Tosh slowly faded away. Ianto told Owen about her visitation next time he stopped by, and Owen promised to look out for her, but a week passed before Ianto saw his friend again. He came down to the archives late one evening to do some last-minute filing, and there Tosh was, sort of sitting on the floor, playing with something small, grey, and furry. At first, Ianto thought it might be a rat, but as he got closer, he realised it was a small cat, as grey as smoke. “Well, hello. I see you’ve found a friend.” Tosh looked up, startled. She was a bit more substantial this time, perhaps beginning to adjust to her new existence as a wandering spirit. “Ianto!” Her voice was clearer too. Smiling, Ianto crouched down beside her. “You look… better.” He held his hand out to the cat, and it sniffed at his fingers, rubbed its head against his hand, or at least seemed to. He felt nothing. “Ghost cat?” Somehow, it made an odd kind of sense. Tosh had always wanted a cat, but with her long work hours she’d thought it unfair to have one and then just leave it in her flat, alone, for so much of the time. Cats needed company too. “I… found her. I was just wandering around after the last time I was here, and…” Tosh shrugged. “She followed me back here. I think she was lonely. Is it okay?” “Of course. If she was alive, having her down here might be a problem, you know how cats love knocking things off shelves, but what harm can a ghost cat do?” “I’ll keep her out of trouble,” Tosh promised. “I like the company.” “How’re you doing?” “I don’t know. I mean, I’m dead. That says it all, really.” “No, it doesn’t. You’re not gone, and you’re not forgotten, Tosh. You’re still my friend, and I’ll always be happy to see you. We miss you, but being able to see and talk to you helps. You’ll always be welcome, here at the Hub, and at my house, if you can find your way there. You can come home with me anytime you want to.” “Thank you.” “What are friends for? Just because you’re dead now doesn’t change anything. We can still have movie nights. I know you’d have to skip the wine and the popcorn, but you can still watch the movie.” Tosh smiled. “That could be fun.” “I’m sure it will be. And maybe you can help out around the Hub, identifying mysterious bits of tech, perhaps telling me how to fix things too. Death, like life, is what you make it. I learned that from Owen, of all people.” “So… I still have a job?” “If you want it. We’re a bit shorthanded right now, so we can use all the help we can get.” “You know, perhaps being dead won’t be so bad!” “That’s the spirit! Excuse the unintended pun.” Tosh giggled. “You’re forgiven.” “So, tell me what you’ve been up to since the last time I saw you. We can talk while I file these.” Ianto brandished the small stack of manila folders he was holding, feeling better than he had in weeks. His friends were still with him; somehow, everything would be alright. The End https://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/3014132.html #wanderingspirits #spiritsauthor #owen #ianto #torchwood #exitwounds #jack #tosh #characters #gray #rss #feeds #linksharing #qwibbit

FAKE Fic: Halloween Again Title: Halloween Again Fandom: FAKE Author: badly_knitted Characters: Dee, Ryo, OCs. Rating: PG Setting: After Like Like Love. Summary: Dee and Ryo have volunteered to take some of the neighbourhood kids Trick or Treating. Word Count: 1262 Written For: Theme Prompt: 280 – Trick Or Treat at fandomweekly. Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh. Another year, another Halloween, and once again Dee and Ryo were dressed up, because why not? One of the best things about Halloween was the costumes, the chance to be someone or something totally different for a night. They’d taken the kids from the orphanage Trick or Treating earlier, as a favor to Mother, and now they were about to help chaperone a group of neighbourhood kids, since many of their parents worked late shifts, or even two jobs to make ends meet. New York was an expensive place to live, and times were hard for many families, but the kids shouldn’t have to miss out because of that. This year, Ryo had opted to dress up as a Jedi knight, complete with toy lightsabre, because the outfit would be comfortable and the robe would be like wearing a long coat. He’d been half frozen last year because putting a coat on over his costume would have spoiled it; he wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. The end of October could be seriously chilly, especially after dark. Dee had decided to be a wizard. Maybe it wasn’t the sexiest outfit ever, but he too was going for warmth and comfort, and besides, when chaperoning kids, it wouldn’t do to be dressed provocatively. Appearances mattered, and as cops, they had their reputations to think about. “Are you ready?” Ryo asked, pulling his robe on and typing the belt. “Yep!” Dee adjusted his pointy hat, settling it at a rakish angle. “Just gotta grab my staff and my familiar.” “Witches have familiars, Dee, not wizards.” “How can you say that?” Dee frowned at his lover. “That’s sexist!” He clipped the leash to Koneko’s collar. “Besides, she doesn’t want to miss out on Halloween. I’ve told her all about it. She’s been looking forward to it for weeks!” It still amused Ryo that Dee had basically chosen to name the lilac point Siamese kitten he’d found ‘kitten’ in Japanese. Although, it did make sense in a weird way, since he’d kept insisting what he’d rescued from the dumpster was a kitten, even when Ryo had said it looked more like a clump of fluff. “You’re seriously taking our cat Trick or Treating?” “Why not?” Dee crouched down by the chair and Koneko obediently hopped up on his shoulder, draping herself around Dee’s neck like a fur collar. She was trained to the lead, and had been since early kittenhood, but she generally preferred to ride rather than walk. Dee didn’t blame her; he wouldn’t want to go barefoot in late October. The sidewalks were cold at this time of year. Not that he’d ever consider taking a barefoot stroll through the Big Apple even in more comfortable temperatures. City sidewalks were filthy; that was why he and Ryo mostly went barefoot at home, to avoid tracking dirt from the streets through their apartment. “I bet no one else is taking their cat out with them. What if she gets scared?” Dee snorted. “As if! About the only things that freak her out are birds, and the ringtone on JJ’s phone. She’s one tough kitten; should’a called her Fearless.” “Not so much of a kitten now,” Ryo pointed out. Koneko had matured from a small, creamy white fuzzy bundle to a sleek, elegant beauty, having filled out over the last few weeks from the gawky adolescent stage, when she’d been all ears, and legs, and seemingly massive paws. Everything was in proportion now. Picking up his staff, Dee headed for the door. “Come on, let’s go round up our charges.” Grabbing his lightsabre, Ryo followed his lover out, locking the door behind him and zipping the keys into a pouch on his belt. The two detectives, along with two parents, guided a band of seventeen kids, aged between four and twelve, around the neighbourhood, building by building, apartment by apartment. Koneko hissed at a bull mastiff in one apartment, sending the dog scurrying for safety behind its owner’s sofa, cuffed an inquisitive tabby cat around the ear, had a yowling match with another Siamese, which she seemed to think she’d one, judging by her smug expression, and spent most of her time giving a running commentary on anything and everything, right in Dee’s ear. Siamese cats, Dee had learned, could be very talkative, and Kono always had something to say. She also took exception to someone else’s costume when their band of Trick or Treaters ran into a group from the next block. One slim paw lashed out, snatching the headdress right off the woman’s head before she knew what was happening, then dropping it to the ground with a disdainful look, and a disgusted sneeze. Ryo hastily picked up the offending item, dusted it off, and handed it back. “Sorry about that.” “No harm done. Never thought I’d have a cat critiquing my costume though.” She smiled wryly. “My boyfriend told me the headdress didn’t look authentic; I guess he was right.” She didn’t bother putting it back on. The kids all made out like bandits, so much candy for everyone that their parents were probably going to curse Dee and Ryo for the rest of eternity. Kono did pretty well too, coming home with three packets of cat treats, a tin of tuna, a bright pink Ping-Pong ball, and a small, knitted pumpkin, which she proudly carried in her mouth all the way home, as if she was a fearless hunter with her prey. “That was fun,” Ryo said as he let them into their apartment after dropping all the kids off at their respective homes. “We should do it again next year.” “Yeah, guess it didn’t go too badly. Sucks that we didn’t get any candy though. All that effort and no reward. Nobody ever thinks about the parents and the chaperones. We deserve treats too.” “Don’t worry, you’ll get your treats.” Ryo kissed Dee lightly on the lips. “Yeah?” Dee’s face lit up, and Ryo knew exactly what his lover was thinking. “Of course. I saved a couple of bags of Halloween candy just for you,” he teased. “I know how much you hate missing out.” Dee groaned. Not that he wasn’t happy about the candy, that was thoughtful of Ryo, but that wasn’t the kind of treat he’d been hoping for tonight. Setting Koneko down on the back of the sofa, he unclipped her leash. Seeing his lover’s expression, Ryo grinned and winked. “Maybe if you’re very good, you might get the other kind of treat as well.” “Oh, trust me, I can be VERY good.” “I know.” “Mrow,” said Koneko around her pumpkin, stalking across the room to hide her prize in her bed before trotting to the kitchen for a drink of water straight from the faucet. How to turn the tap on and off when she was thirsty had been one of the first things she’d figured out. She had a water bowl of course, but she preferred her water freshly poured. Ryo stretched, back aching a little from carrying one of the smallest kids most of the way home. “Why don’t I make us some tea? Then we can get out of our costumes.” “Definitely likin’ that idea!” Dee smirked. “You would.” Smiling, Ryo made for the kitchen to put the kettle on. He loved Halloween almost as much as his partner did, but he was still always glad when the Trick or Treating part was over and he could relax. The rest of the evening, he and Dee could spend celebrating their own way. The End https://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/3014206.html #halloweenagain #dee #ryo #fakeauthor #trick #like #treating #themeprompt #characters #sanamimatoh #rss #feeds #linksharing #qwibbit

The Fantastic Journey Triple Drabble: Siesta Title: Siesta Fandom: The Fantastic Journey Author: badly_knitted Characters: Willaway, Varian. Rating: PG Setting: After the series. Summary: Perhaps a nap might be a good idea after all. Written For: Challenge 525: Amnesty 84 at fan_flashworks, using Challenge 480: Nap. Disclaimer: I don’t own The Fantastic Journey, or the characters. They belong to their creators. A/N: Triple drabble. “Naptime, is it?” Willaway asked, amused, as Varian stretched out on the grass, his head in the older man’s lap. “It’s not as if there’s anywhere we have to be right now.” Varian’s grin was bordering on smug. “So you just thought you’d use me as your own personal pillow?” “I didn’t think you’d mind. Of course, if you’d rather I moved…” “I didn’t say that.” “Then why are you complaining?” “Who said I was complaining?” Willaway threaded his fingers through Varian’s hair. “Comfortable?” “Very.” Varian smiled up as his lover, blue eyes half-closed, although Willaway wasn’t sure whether that was because his lover was already half asleep, or because the sun was shining so brightly. “You know if you sleep now, you’ll be awake half the night, and if you can’t sleep, I won’t be able to either.” “You don’t usually object when I keep you awake half the night. I do make it worth your while.” “That’s certainly true, even if it does mean we’re both so tired come morning that we don’t want to get up.” There was a smile on Willaway’s lips and a distant look in his eyes. “Now I think about it, perhaps it’s a good idea for you to take a nap now. You might need your strength later.” “That sounds promising. Maybe you should take a nap too. That way you won’t mind being kept up half the night.” “That is a very good point.” Willaway continued running his fingers through Varian’s hair. “It wouldn’t do for me to fall asleep on you, would it? After all, I AM older than you.” “Age is just a number, Jonathan.” “Hush, go to sleep.” Willaway rested his free hand over Varian’s heart. “Maybe we can find somewhere to stay tonight that has a bed.” The End https://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/3014417.html #fantasticjourney #tripledrabble #siestafandom #varian #willaway #nap #challenge #characters #perhaps #maybe #rss #feeds #linksharing #qwibbit

Ficlet: Nothing Title: Nothing Author: badly_knitted Characters: Jack. Rating: PG Word Count: 594 Spoilers: Nada. Summary: The only thing Jack really fears is the nothingness when he dies. Written For: scytales’ prompt ‘any, any, being afraid of nothing,’ at threesentenceficathon. Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. Everyone thinks Jack is fearless, that because he can’t stay dead, he isn’t afraid of anything. Why would he be, when no matter what happens to him, he heals, quicky and completely, without leaving so much as a scar? He doesn’t age either, not in any visible way, so he doesn’t need to fear grey hair, or baldness, or wrinkles, or his teeth falling out. He doesn’t have to worry about going deaf, needing glasses, or getting arthritis; he’s just going to continue through life unchanged and unchanging. Even dying is only a temporary setback. He’s learned to act like it doesn’t bother him, learned to endure the pain of injury, and death, and resurrection like it’s of no consequence. He flirts with everything that moves, to show that he’s not the kind of man to get serious with anyone. He doesn’t do relationships, doesn’t do commitment, all he wants is to have fun with anyone, human or alien, who’s willing… People forget, or perhaps they simply don’t know, that he’s an experienced conman. He can make anyone believe whatever he wants them to, so he does just that. He convinces everyone around him that nothing bothers him, nothing scares him, everything’s under control, and people buy the act, but they shouldn’t. Because it’s not true. He’s afraid all the time, of falling in love only to lose his lover, to death, or to resentment over the fact that he doesn’t age. He’s afraid of spending eternity watching everyone he knows, everyone he meets, everyone who so much as crosses his path, grow old and die while he has no choice but to keep on living. He’s afraid of failing the people he cares about, of letting them down, of not being strong enough, fast enough, or brave enough to save them when they need him to. And he’s afraid of being alone, that in the end there’ll be no one left to care about him, and the universe will wind down, grow cold, the stars winking out, and he’ll still be there, the only thing left alive, wandering a dead universe until time itself ceases to exist. How can he NOT be afraid of that? Most of all, he’s afraid of the nothing that greets him each time he dies, the cold, black, featureless emptiness that’s all he sees between dying, and taking that first desperate, gasping breath of returning life. The nothingness has no form, there’s no sensation, nothing to touch, see, hear, smell, or taste. It’s not a place, not in the way other people think of places, and time doesn’t exist there. It’s a complete absence of everything, and yet, when he’s there, he’s always acutely aware that he’s not alone. As empty as the no-place between death and life is, there’s something haunting its lightlessness, something moving in its emptiness, something whispering in its soundlessness, and that something is there for a reason: it’s searching for him. Jack doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t know what it wants, doesn’t even know how he KNOWS it’s him it seeks, but he does, and each time he’s there he keeps as still as he can, makes himself as small as possible, stays silent in the silence, hoping this won’t be the time it finally tracks him down, that he will be dragged back into life before he can be located. There are so many things for an immortal, unkillable man to fear, but that nothingness, where something unnameable and unknowable lurks in wait, is more terrifying than anything he’s ever known. The End https://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/3013438.html #nothing #jack #everyone #wordcount #characters #author #spoilers #rss #feeds #linksharing #qwibbit

The Fantastic Journey Fic: Somewhere Dry Title: Somewhere Dry Fandom: The Fantastic Journey Author: badly_knitted Characters: Willaway, Fred, Varian, Liana, Scott, Sil-El. Rating: PG Spoilers: After the series. Summary: It’s the only building around, so no matter how creepy it looks, it’s the travellers’ best option. Word Count: 1659 Written For: Prompt 296 – Locked Door at fandomweekly. Disclaimer: I don’t own The Fantastic Journey, or the characters. They belong to their creators. The building was perhaps the most imposing one they’d seen in their travels, nothing like the gleaming futuristic edifices they’d come across in other zones. It seemed half mansion and half gothic castle, something straight out of a horror movie, and it loomed out of the surrounding forest as if it had grown there. For all the island’s strangeness, that might well have been the case; who knew how any part of it had come to be? But it was there, and it was the only shelter available, so… “Do we go inside?” Liana asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. This was outside of her experience. Varian was equally out of his depth. Nothing like this seemingly ancient structure existed in his time. He’d seen pictures of old buildings, but nothing even close to what stood in front of them. It was unsettling in appearance, but at least it had a reassuring solidity about it. He tipped his head back to look at the sky overhead, all roiling purple-black clouds, as the rising wind tugged at everyone’s clothes and hair. Nearby trees creaked and groaned in the strengthening gusts, their branches thrashing about like flailing limbs. Turning his attention back to the building, Varian studied it a moment longer; the heavy wooden door was open a few inches, inviting them in, offering protection from the elements, and he came to a decision, the only one he could make under the circumstances. “What choice do we have? It’s either this, or the forest, and it’s getting increasingly unsafe out here.” Lightning flickered overhead, and the first few heavy raindrops hit the ground. The wind redoubled its efforts, and somewhere behind them came a sharp crack, the sound of a branch breaking, followed by a heavy crash as it fell. Willaway glanced apprehensively towards the sound. “If we stay out here, there’s every chance a tree will fall on us, either from the wind or a lightning strike, and I don’t like the idea of being flattened in my sleep.” “Yeah, I gotta agree. Place might look creepy, but it’s our best alternative.” Fred took one of the bulky flashlights out of his holdall. “I’ll go first, check for danger.” The travellers hadn’t seen any wildlife since entering this zone, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any, and in weather like this, anything might have holed up inside the old house, as eager for shelter as the travellers were. It took some shoving, but between them, they managed to get the door open wide enough to squeeze through, the ancient, rusty hinges creaking and the bottom scraping its way over flagstones through decades of leaflitter. Fred took the lead, shining the light around a modest-sized antechamber, with three closed doors leading off it, and a broad stone staircase with crumbling bannisters leading to the next floor. “Seems safe enough, but probably best to stick with the floor we’re on. Don’t know how sturdy the floors upstairs might be. Wouldn’t wanna fall through them and break something.” Varian ushered the other three into the building, then followed, pushing the door closed as far as it would go, to keep the wind and rain outside, where it belonged. He looked around himself in the light from Fred’s torch. Getting out of the rain was only the first step. “Now what?” “We’ve ruled out the upstairs, for safety reasons, so that leaves us with three choices.” Fred played the flashlight beam over the three doors. “This is beginning to seem uncomfortably familiar,” Willaway commented, his thoughts dragged irresistibly back to events at the carnival, barely a month ago. “Yeah, partner. A bit too much like back at the funhouse for my tastes. I vote we stick together this time.” “I agree with Fred,” Varian said firmly. “We don’t want to become separated, we’re safer together.” “You sensin’ anything?” Fred glanced towards the healer. Varian shook his head. “Other than the storm outside, no. There’s no one here but us.” “Good.” Willaway smiled wryly. “After our recent encounters, I’m not eager to make new acquaintances. Not everyone is as friendly as they might be.” “I hear ya. Okay, we’ll check out our options one at a time, pick whichever looks best, hunker down, and stay there until the storm passes. We all good with that?” Everyone agreed with Fred’s suggestion, which was hardly surprising. They could hear the wind howling around the eaves of the house, somewhere far above them, and the rain was coming down harder, hammering at the windows and the roof, several floors up. The door they’d entered by swung in again, forced open by a powerful gust, admitting icy raindrops along with a scattering of hailstones. Willaway shivered in the draught, wrapping his arms around himself. “Let’s choose quickly.” Fred made for the nearest door and pushed it open, shining the light through to reveal broken windowpanes and rotting floorboards. “Okay, that one’s out.” He pulled the door shut again; the click of the latch was audible only because the wind dropped momentarily. The second door led into a long, windowless hallway with doors along both sides. The travellers looked at each other in the gloom and shook their heads in mutual agreement; it didn’t look at all appealing. Fred backed out, shutting the door, and everybody turned as one to the final door. Varian tried the handle; it was locked. “You can unlock it though, can’t you?” Scott asked. It wouldn’t be the first time Varian had dealt with locked doors. The tall man nodded, reaching for the sonic energiser in its pocket. Willaway shuffled his feet. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, there might be a very good reason for this door to be locked when the others aren’t. We have no idea what might be in there.” “It’s either this room, or the corridor with the doors.” Scott glanced in that direction. “Or we could make camp right here,” Willaway suggested. They all glanced towards the half-open front door, and the spreading pool of water where the wind was driving the rain in through the opening. Fred shook his head. “Not the best plan. Even if we keep to this side, the way the rain’s comin’ down, we’ll likely be paddling by mornin’. If this room don’t pan out, might have to see what’s down the corridor.” “I suppose you’re right.” Willaway turned to Varian. “Go ahead. I suppose you can always lock it again if necessary.” Varian focused his mind through the sonic energiser and into the lock, concentrating on the mechanism, using his thoughts and his energy to trip the tumblers. After several moments, it opened with a click. He stepped back. “Fred?” “Yeah.” Flashlight in one hand, Fred stepped up to the door and turned the handle, pushing it partway open, and shining the light into the room beyond. It was empty of furniture except for a wooden bench against one wall, and a couple of overstuffed armchairs to either side of the fireplace, facing it. There were even a few logs stacked in the hearth, although they were as dusty as everything else. Two more doors opened off the room. Pushing the door the rest if the way open, Fred went in, his footsteps stirring up the dust. The cat, Sil-El, sneezed. Liana hugged her pet closer. Turning back to the others, clustered around the doorway, Fred shrugged. “Maybe not ideal, but I guess it’ll do.” Liana followed Fred inside, the others filing in behind her and spreading out to check the room. Heavy, mouldering drapes covered the windows, blocking any draughts, making it quite cosy. “Where do the other doors lead?” “This one’s a closet,” Willaway said, hurriedly closing the door he’d just opened. He’d developed a perfectly understandable aversion to walk-in closets after the events back at Krysta and Kedrin’s house. “Looks like this one used to be a kitchen,” Scott said, turning back from the door at the far end of the room, then… “Uh, guys? Is that a real skeleton?” It was seated in one of the chairs by the fire, and still had a few tatters of clothing hanging from its bones, a straggle of grey hair still clinging to the skull. There was silence for several minutes as everyone took in the disturbing sight, Willaway swallowed hard. “The corridor with all the doors suddenly seems a lot more appealing.” “Yeah, you got that right,” Fred agreed. “I don’t much fancy spendin’ the night with the former occupant.” Nobody else did either. As they left the room, Varian took the key from the lock, closing the door and locking it behind them, leaving the dead, whoever they might once have been, to rest in peace. Returning to the door leading to the corridor, once again Fred went through first. All any of them wanted now was to find a safe, dry place to spend the night, preferably without skeletons, or any other unwelcome company. The first room off the corridor, although not particularly big, at least had no other doors leading off it, no windows, a solid floor, less dust, no fireplace, but no draughts, which was good enough for everyone. They shut the door, spread out their bedrolls, and settled in for the night, hoping the storm would blow itself out by morning, so they could move on, away from this spooky old house. Unsurprisingly, no one slept particularly well, their heads too full of questions about the house and its former inhabitant, questions they were unlikely to ever learn the answers to. Sometimes, the best any of them could hope for was shelter from the weather, and at least they had that much. As creepy as the place was, it was still better than being out in the storm. Tomorrow, with any luck, they’d leave it behind, continue on their way east, and let the old house keep its secrets. The End https://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/3013794.html #fantasticjourney #somewheredry #dryfandom #journeyauthor #varian #door #nothing #liana #willaway #rss #feeds #linksharing #qwibbit

Double Drabble: Nothing's The Same Title: Nothing's The Same Author: badly_knitted Characters: Ianto, Jack. Rating: PG Written For: Challenge 941: Gloomy at tw100. Spoilers: Post-CoE, but Ianto lived. Summary: Nothing is the same following the 456 incident. Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. A/N: Double drabble. It was silly really; the warehouse the team were using as their temporary headquarters while the Hub was rebuilt was really no gloomier than the Hub itself had been, and yet the bare brick walls, and cold concrete of the floors, were getting everyone down. Well, they were getting the team’s surviving members down, and maybe that was part of the problem. They’d thought they were recovering from Tosh and Owen’s deaths, at least finding ways to move forward without their friends, but then the 456 had come along, the children had started chanting, and they’d found themselves desperately trying to survive a government sanctioned kill squad sent to prevent them from doing their job. Now, much of their secret underground base was rubble, and they were trying to make do with what was available. Which wasn’t much. “This place is a wreck! How am I supposed to keep everywhere tidy?” “It’s not that bad, and it won’t be forever,” Jack said, trying to cheer Ianto up. “Just until the Hub is rebuilt.” Ianto turned tragic eyes towards his lover. “But it won’t be OUR Hub, will it? The old Hub was full of memories.” “So we’ll make new ones.” The End https://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/3012754.html #doubledrabble #same #sameauthor #hub #ianto #jack #challenge #gloomy #torchwood #rss #feeds #linksharing #qwibbit

FAKE Double Drabble: Freaky Title: Freaky Fandom: FAKE Author: badly_knitted Characters: Ryo, Dee. Rating: PG Setting: After the manga. Summary: Dee and Ryo are investigating a violent assault. Written For: Challenge 525: Amnesty 87 at fan_flashworks, using Challenge 520: Ear. Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh. A/N: Double drabble. “We’ve got him on assault, grievous bodily harm, public intoxication, disturbing the peace, and resisting arrest,” Ryo said, “but it doesn’t seem enough. There has to be something else we can charge him with. He bit that guy’s ear right off!” “Littering?” Dee suggested. “Dee! Be serious!” “I was! He bit the ear off and spat it out on the sidewalk. D’ya think they might be able to reattach it at the hospital?” “I have no idea; I’m not a surgeon. Someone from the bar put it on ice pretty quick so they’ll probably try, but…” Ryo shook his head. “It was pretty chewed up. Even if they can put it back, it’ll never look the same.” “Yeah, and if it doesn’t work. How’s the poor guy gonna manage with only one ear? I mean, I guess he can wear contacts, but he’s not gonna be able to wear sunglasses anymore. Think I’d rather lose a finger than an ear.” “I’d rather not lose either.” “Well yeah, that goes without sayin’. Nobody wants to lose a body part, not if they’ve got any sense. I just don’t get why anyone would wanna take a bite outta someone. That’s just freaky.” The End https://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/3012939.html #doubledrabble #fake #fakeauthor #freakyfandom #dee #ryo #ear #challenge #characters #sanamimatoh #rss #feeds #linksharing #qwibbit