Drabble meme...
Apr. 14th, 2006 11:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
calime...because apparently I'm a) reckless b)suicidal and c) unable to resist begging for drabbles, when so many wonderful writers are offering.
So...
The first 10 people who respond to this get to request a snippet/drabble (ca 100 words) from me. In return, they have to post this in their journal and make the same offer. Or not. Or do something else :) The reciprocating part is not compulsory, you know.
As to fandoms...I've only ever written some Highlander before. I think I could probably do something from LOTR, Discworld, StarWars (preferably the older trilogy), House,the Vampire Chronicles,perhaps Firefly, if I try hard and threaten myself with a sharp stick.
And please be patient with me *goes to sharpen sticks*...
So...
The first 10 people who respond to this get to request a snippet/drabble (ca 100 words) from me. In return, they have to post this in their journal and make the same offer. Or not. Or do something else :) The reciprocating part is not compulsory, you know.
As to fandoms...I've only ever written some Highlander before. I think I could probably do something from LOTR, Discworld, StarWars (preferably the older trilogy), House,the Vampire Chronicles,perhaps Firefly, if I try hard and threaten myself with a sharp stick.
And please be patient with me *goes to sharpen sticks*...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-14 09:03 pm (UTC)But I've already asked for (more than) one drabble already, so you can discount this one if you want. But, er, I've always wanted to know a bit more about Jabba the Hut...?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-16 06:14 pm (UTC)Snippet # 1
The big room is dark and quiet, only light coming from a tiny holo-vid of a slim Twi’lek female twirling seductively in an intricate dance. An enormous bulk shifts in the darkness, the flickering of the vid reflected in a pair of bulbous eyes. A rubbery tongue sneaks out of the corner of a slit-like mouth as Jabba the Hutt contemplates a potential new purchase.
Jabba rumbles deep in his chest. He knows that most of his fellow hutts consider his obsession with dancing girls – humanoid dancing girls, at that – a major weakness. A weakness in a hutt is a shameful thing, an opening for another to exploit. But Jabba knows better, and therefore does nothing to quell the whisperings behind his back.
Let his enemies think his habit of aquiring and killing those pets a weakness, let it lull them into a false sense of security. Let them fail to notice the power Jabba is slowly aquiring, his relentless ability for squeezing profit out of any venture, his ever-spreading influence that will one day devour them.
For Jabba believes himself in control, not the other way around. True, he never fails to admire the sleek beauty of his new pet, but even from the first, the anticipatory flutter is inside him, hovering, waiting... Waiting for the day when he finds himself looking at the current slave with affection, because that is the day when the rancor will be fed a treat. Affection is an emotion that clouds the brain and therefore stands in the way of profit. It is a weakness and therefore not to be allowed. And what of it if he enjoys the thrill of power coursing through him, when he flips the switch and hears her scream when her limbs scramble uselessly for a purchase? What of it if he savours the brief moment of terror washing over the dancer’s face when the floor gives under her feet? How can an ultimate control over another being – admittedly inferior, but still – be a weakness?
Jabba spares another glance at the holo-vid. He can order the purchase tomorrow.
Snippet # 2
Jabba knew that most other hutts considered other sentient species too inferior to be worthy of notice. At most, they were considered clever enough to serve the majesty of hutts. Jabba, on the other hand, was not so complacently secure in the hutt superiority. He thought it significant that most other species in the Universe were humanoid.
Humanoids intrigued and attracted, aggrieved and repulsed him simultaneously. They were adaptable, mobile and versatile. They were, by and large, intelligent. Also, they could be as admirably ruthless as any hutt. And they were everywhere, like vermin. Deep down , Jabba feared humanoids as much as he was drawn to them. And what Jabba feared, he made use of ... and ultimately destroyed.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-17 06:48 pm (UTC)This second drabble too is lovely - a very different stance, and a full awareness of hutt as other. Nice perspective change.
Thanks!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-17 04:56 pm (UTC)The last one draws heavily on the books, not the movies.
Snippet # 3
Jabba sometimes had disturbing dreams. They’d first appeared in the aftermath of Aunt Jiliac’s death and could be easily contributed to the additional workload Jabba carried in managing the clan business. Jabba, in his private thoughts blamed them on Durga, though.
The dreams were always the same. There was this disgusting young mindless grub of a huttling wriggling on the floor, just like after the fight, only Jiliac’s great corpse was nowhere in sight. And somehow, Jabba knew the huttling was not Jiliac’s, but his. He’d somehow become the very thing he despised, he’d given birth to the thing, and now, unless he could smother the vermin before anyone became aware of it’s existance, he was going to degenerate into the same cooing, mothering, brainless shade of an once-brilliant hutt – just like his Aunt had. And from behind the shadows, all of the Nal Hutta was laughing at him.
In blind panic, he hurried to roll over the little huttling, smothering it, like the first one. So easy ... but when he’d slowly turned his heavy sluglike body around, somehow the horrible little creature was still alive, still wriggling towards him, making those hungry slurping noises...
He always woke at that point, frozen in fright, heart pounding. His personal physician might blame stress, and overwork, but Jabba knew better. The blame lied solely on Durga. Durga, who had challenged and killed Jiliac. Durga, who had not had the decency to stay and finish the little vermin. It was all Durga’s fault.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-17 06:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-17 07:11 pm (UTC)Congrats!
Date: 2006-04-17 08:01 pm (UTC)Re: Congrats!
Date: 2006-05-24 10:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-15 03:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-23 06:49 pm (UTC)Discworld drabble # 1
Title: Tea
Disclaimer: not mine in any way. Just playing.
Word count: 100
Magrat hated being late. She landed abruptly and hastily shoved her broom between the other two already leaning against the cottage wall and the white horse standing by the door.
She dashed in and promptly choked on an apology.
"Late again," remarked Granny Weatherwax disapprovingly.
Magrat got her voice back.
"What is He doing here?" she croaked.
"Death comes to us all," said Nanny Ogg philosophically, peering into her empty cup.
"Yes, but not for tea!!" hissed Magrat desperately.
The tall figure in black gave an embarassed cough.
"ACTUALLY, IT’S MORE FOR THE SCUMBLE. AND THE SCINTILLATING COMPANY, OF COURSE."
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-24 12:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-23 06:49 pm (UTC)Title: The Scumble Effect
Disclaimer: not mine in any way. Just playing.
Word count: 100
Magrat pinched herself again. No doubt she’d be black and blue tomorrow, but she still hadn’t managed to wake from what had to be a bad dream.
Death had tried to teach them a game named something like dam, or weir, but after the third glass of scumble he’d graciously agreed that Cripple Mr. Onion was perhaps a better choice after all.
Greebo had mysteriously disappeared somewhere – probably into the pantry - together with the big black raven and that horrible little skeletal rat.
Currently, Nanny Ogg and Death were into the twentieth stanza of the hedgehog song.
Magrat whimpered.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-24 12:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-23 07:00 pm (UTC)Title: Career Choice
Disclaimer: not mine in any way. Just playing.
Word count: 100
"I REALLY HAVE TO GO NOW," said Death regretfully. "THERE’S THAT PLAGUE IN KLATCH…"
"SQUEAK!"
Greebo slunk out from under the table, the Death of Rats straddling his neck, skeletal paws firmly clutching the fur. A somewhat ruffled-looking raven trailed behind.
"A TEST DRIVE?" Death looked at Greebo. "NICE KITTY. WELL, I WOULD’NT DREAM INTERFERING IN YOUR RECRUITMENT POLICY."
He turned to the door.
"A PLEASURE, MY LADIES." The door swung shut.
"That cat is the most rampant careerist, Gytha," remarked Granny drily.
"Yes," said Nanny happily, " isn’t it a joy to know he can take care of himself?"
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-24 12:17 am (UTC)*g* Thanks.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-24 10:44 am (UTC)But Greebo aspiring to the status of the mount to the Death of rats just seemd to make so much sense *grins*. I adore Greebo, frankly (I think that if I ever had to have a permanent opposite-sex live-in partner, Greebo as a human would be the perfect choice *cough* all one could want in a man *snort*). And I can sympathise with Nanny wanting her kitty to be secure and doing well in the world *g*.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-24 04:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-24 10:53 am (UTC)It's just that as I pointed out above to
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-24 09:03 pm (UTC)Methos + Vetinari = mmmm, also mmmm.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-17 07:50 pm (UTC)