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September 2016 Artwork FanFic Challenge - by Atomicmayo
Travisina
41.media.tumblr.com/315bf83a1962694d0eff1bfaadec4435/tumblr_o4jbckLjZy1uqi1nzo1_r1_1280.jpg
(Click on the image to see the larger version)

Atomicmayo has offered us this picture of Dayna for the September challenge. (As it's already 6th September, this challenge will remain open until 6th October)

Post your stories here...
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
Hugbot
I always loved this picture (guess why Pfft) and in particular the rather un-Dayna-like details, giving more depth to her character. However, I also found another explanation for their existence:

Retaliation

Dayna had locked herself in her room, brooding over the blueprints for a new weapon. But she could not concentrate, her mind being preoccupied with the private little quarrel she had with Avon and which had escalated during the last days.

When had it all begun? It must have been the day when she decided to do a little weapons maintenance in the mess room where Avon was enjoying a sip of fine wine. Purchasing a Grand Cru had not been on the top of Blake’s priority list, and Avon was relieved that he was now able to pursue his own objectives. He savoured the aroma, but then Dayna spoiled it with the stench of grease and solder.

‘The term "mess" does not mean that you are supposed to make a mess of this room’, he said, but you don’t argue with Dayna when she is in the process of putting two dozens of guns on the table. Avon fled, but during the night, he carelessly shoved all her guns and tools into a box and put up a sign, No Guns Allowed.

She enlisted Vila’s help to break into his room where she welded his private gun locker shut and attached the infamous sign to it. The next day, she found the sign on the wall of her room. Trust Avon to use an unremovable glue!

Of course, she had retaliated. But in hindsight, she thought that she might have overdone it. She wondered what he would do when he realised that she had nicked his teddy bear.
 
JustBrad
Father was furious. To be fair, she had gotten a little trigger happy, but she hadn't killed that many Sarrans, at least not that many that didn't deserve it.

Father had grounded her, well, essentially grounded her. Oh, she could come and go as she pleased, she just wasn't allowed a gun, and what was she without a gun?

Dayna couldn't begin to imagine herself without a gun.

And now something has stirred the Sarrans up. The scanner had picked up heavy communication traffic on Federation channels. Father said it sounded like a Space Battle. An actual battle! She should have been excited, but of course, father wouldn't let her listen in....

And now there was evidence of escape pods landing, and Sarrans moving....

And she was grounded, essentially. Even she knew better than to go out unarmed, and she wasn't allowed a gun. And there might be survivors of the Space Battle out there. Imagine how exciting it would be to meet one!

But she was grounded. No Guns Allowed. Father had even posted a sign in her room. She sat at her desk in a deep depression. It was all so unfair....

And she loved her father, really she did, no matter how unfair he was, she wouldn't disobey...

Suddenly she smiled. She ran to her locker, changed into her running clothes, and removed an old favorite toy from the back of her closet.

No guns allowed! Fair enough, but father hadn't said a word about her longbow. She ran for the hatch in long, graceful strides.


.
 
Angry Angel
Both excellent stories that made me smile!
 
http://lucyravenscar.blogspot.com/
atomicmayo
Great stuff so far. Interesting explanations for all the details too, un-Dayna-like or not :P
my tumblr | my twitter | my deviantart | my patreon
 
http://i-fought-space.tumblr.com
Anniew
Dayna and Vila reflect on life on Xenon base. ( Inspired by Atomic Mayo's two art works)

Dayna

Xenon, she thinks, is better than the Liberator: it's less claustrophobic and she likes that it has access to open countryside. It feels like home although she misses the sounds of the sea and its salty tang.

It's taken time for her to relax here. At first it seemed a place of shadows and secrets, the eerie moaning from the cellar still present in her memory and waking her in the night even though Avon had set charges and destroyed all it contained. It hadn't been pleasant, either, to dispose of Pella's corpse and the other bodies after Nina had led the Hommicks to their new-found land. It reminded her that her father lay unburied. But she enjoys the freedom that comes from the extra space and, best of all, she and Soolin have bonded over a shared love of hunting.

Soolin isn't Cally with her ready understanding and motherly ways- Dayna still feels her absence keenly - but she is a replacement for Lauren - tougher and more cynical, yet Dayna feels closer to her than she did to her gentle sister, perhaps because Soolin has also lost loved ones and sought revenge. It is pleasant too to have someone who treats her as an equal. Avon sees her as an errant daughter; Vila as a pretty young thing to fantasise about; Tarrant..well she isn't too sure...kid sister at times, sweetheart at others. But none of them accord her the respect that Soolin shows her and which she values.

Once Avon declared the base free of traps, she had been allowed to choose her own living quarters, which was fun. The room she finally settled on is even better than her bedroom on Sarran. It's a large space and at night it's red lights reflect off the pearly surfaces of the walls, suffusing the space with pink. It amused her when she learned why the lights were red. Avon had gone redder than the lights when she showed him the whips, chains and masks stashed in a cupboard and asked him what they were for. It had been Soolin who matter-of-factly explained things to her and answered her many questions while the men hastily removed the objects and the huge mirror fixed to the ceiling. Now the cupboard contains her clothes and Avon has installed a work bench, computer bank and replicating printer so she can work on perfecting her designs for new weapons. Vila mocked-up a 'No guns allowed' sign for her birthday and got Tarrant to tack it to the wall; not much of a joke but she likes the fact that he bothered.

There are days on Xenon when she forgets she's a rebel, not many but a few, especially now Servalan is dead. She can fool herself that she's living an ordinary, safe life with her treasured family and dodgy Uncle. It would break her heart now if she ever had to leave.


Vila

It's not all about running and killing these days. Sometimes their lives are quiet, even ordinary. They mooch about the base exploring its secrets and organising things the way they like them. Avon has already cannibalised the Hommik's computer room and its solar generators and the hydroponics dome will be up and running again once Orac has refined the teleport and its safe for them to seek out the nutrients it depends on. It may be possible, Vila hopes, to grow their own grapes for wine making. Then there's all that roofless space to explore - grass and trees and hills- though only Dayna and Soolin really relish such exploration. The rest of them haven't much experience of 'the outside' and what they do have has involved a lot of ducking and diving and shooting so they find it difficult to take on trust that there are no predators, human or animal, to trouble them here since the Hommiks departed. A walk sees Vila twitching at each pebble fall or creak of a tree branch and Avon tensely scanning the horizon, shoulders lifted, hands never far from his gun.

For Soolin, 'the Outside' holds no fears. Vila has learned she grew up on a frontier world, though where remains a mystery, and she relaxes in the open air, enjoying sun, rain, wind, even storms in equal measure. She is never talkative but she did let slip when they stumbled upon a little bridge crossing a river and a green stretch of grass on the other side that it was the sort of place made for eating outside. 'Eating outside' is a concept foreign to Vila but he is intrigued and Orac, when questioned, dredges up a reference to something called a 'pichnik ', apparently a popular form of entertainment in the 'Old Calendar' Federation. It even supplies a menu.

Days of badgering ensue before Vila gets his way and they all enjoy sandwitchies and flasks of char in the sunshine- though why two slices of processed carbohydrates and some reconstituted protein should be called a SANDwhitchy he never finds out. He hasn't been so happy in ages and the sight of Avon fastidiously stirring his cup of char with a probe because they forgot the spoons is one he treasures.

It isn't long however before they're back to the running and shooting and their pichnik spot is only remembered as the place where Avon nearly died and Tarrant blew up the robot.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Angry Angel
Great stuff Anniew! I really like this more peaceful look at their lives on Xenon. The line about Dayna's unburied father is interesting, adds more feeling to her desire for revenge.
 
http://lucyravenscar.blogspot.com/
Anniew
Angry Angel. Thank you for those nice comments!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Lorna
I like the thought of them settling down on Xenon. Particularly what they had to do to make things "comfy"
 
Rainesz
@Anniew
I love this little interlude of tranquility before they eventually lose Xenon. I love all the little character touches, that Soolin and Dayna bond over enjoying the outdoors and Vila is agoraphobic. And Avon on a picnic. I wonder if he brought his gun. (Of course.)
 
Anniew
Thank you all. It was nice to write something non-angsty for a change.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Ellen York
I like to think that there were some peaceful times between the running and shooting. Leave it to Vila to want to grow grapes for wine.
 
Rainesz
I can't seem to make my stories shorter. Sorry, once more I got carried away. Pfft

Creation

"NO GUNS ALLOWED".
At least, not until she had finished this new project -- and she wanted to see this through without distractions of a more lethal kind. Time to make something brand new that, for once, would not be a weapon. Yet this new creation felt much more dangerous to her than anything else she had ever built before.

Dayna had tacked the sign up for her own benefit. "I'm going to do this thing," she said to herself with determination. "Even if I'm the only person who will ever appreciate it."

First she needed supplies. Then coffee. Lots of coffee. She drew little designs on her tablet based on the research she had done with Orac. Zen had also sent some visual reference to her personal cabin computer, as well as useful instructions with which she could use to improvise on the basic template. She then picked a shape she thought was pleasing, made sketches, figured out how the electrical components might be added. After her diagrams were complete, she finally made a list of the things she didn't already have which she still needed in order to build her creation.

With great reluctance, she then sought out Vila. She reasoned that if anyone had a knack for procuring odd things, it was the little thief.

"Where can I get this stuff?" she asked, showing him her hand-written list.

Vila squinted at it. "Wires. Glue. Carving tools. Varnish. Wood. Wait, what?" He cocked his head. "A tuning fork? What kind of crazy weapon are you building this time, Dayna?"

"A sonic one," she muttered. "Why I need the tuning fork. So do you think you can help me find these, or don't you?"

Vila grinned. "Quid pro quo?" When he saw her venomous look he added, "Um, completely innocent quid pro quo, that is?

She sighed. "Just don't ask questions. This is just ... an experiment."

***
Dayna was impressed. Vila delivered the goods promptly after an excursion to the surface of Epsilon Three (she didn't inquire too deeply on how he had accomplished this; better left a mystery) and in return, she had to take his shift on the Liberator's deck for five nights in a row. She considered it worth it and would have been completely happy had he then not gone snooping into her business.

She had just begun to sand the wooden frame when Vila knocked on her door. She opened it a crack, trying to hide the view of her worktable. "I thought I should tell you," he grinned, winking,"that I know what the parts for a harp look like."

She flushed in anger and embarrassment. "Vila, I told you I didn't want to talk about it! Now leave me alone." She slammed the door in his face.

"Sorry! Artistic temperament, I get it!" he whined through the door.

"Yes, and this artist also makes her own explosives, so go AWAY!"

"Ah! Hint taken! I'll leave you to your work..."

Yet a week later, there came another knock on the door. She tried to ignore it as she continued to attach the wires to the instrument's pegs. "Daaaay-na," came Vila's plaintive voice. "Aw, Dayna, open up. I have a peace offering."

She growled and got up to open the door. Vila was standing there holding out a cuddly plush creature of some sort. "I got this for you because I thought it was cute. 'Dayna needs more cuteness in her life,' I said to myself. I have no idea what species it is." He began to make the toy dance. " 'I'm waiting for Dayna to play me a song'," he warbled in the creature's supposed voice.

Dayna snatched it out of his hand and angrily hurled it across the room. It smacked against her ammunition locker. "I may be the youngest person on the Liberator, Vila, but I'm not a child! Now get lost before I tell Avon you filched his wine."

"How did--" he croaked but she didn't let him finish and slammed the door on his face again. She ignored his muffled and desperate apologies from the corridor and sat there, rubbing her forehead, staring at her nearly complete work. Now she only needed to add the electronic elements before she could finally test it, and what was most important, play the song she had written.

Yes, she had written a song. She, Dana Mellanby.

***
She was almost there. Coffee. More coffee.

Absently, her eyes strayed to crumpled thing on the floor. The plush, unidentifiable creature was actually somewhat adorable. She picked it up off the floor and put it gently on her bed, thinking Lauren would have loved this ridiculous thing. As of late, she had been lost in reveries of her childhood as she had hummed to herself, varnishing the harp's wooden frame. She also found herself very sorry for having been unkind to Vila. He had exasperated her, but he had meant her no harm. If anything, he had actually been encouraging.

She sighed. "This isn't working," she said.

Her first musical instrument had not been very successful. Her father had found little data for her to use to construct her very first harp, so she had improvised and made it out of the husk of a detonator shell. She had crudely fixed strings to it and had presented it to her sister Lauren for inspection. It had made an odd plunking sound that was more comical than musical, but of course her adopted sister had loved it.

Her second try at constructing a harp was a vast improvement. She was holding it in her hands now and it was magnificent, if she must say so herself. Now, could she make music from it that wouldn't make her cringe?

After weeks of solitude, the first sound her creation made was that of a melodic waterfall. A good sign. And she finally began to compose her song on it, surprised that she could still remember the fingering she had learned years ago. She would have to give herself more lessons to improve, of course, and practice in extreme secrecy -- but she would finally have a private, tranquil world to turn to, even if it existed only in this cramped little cabin aboard the sometimes chaotic Liberator.

Was she embarrassed by her newest work? Well, if she turned out to be a terrible musician, none of the other crew members would ever know.

***
The instrument's sound indeed had a sweet beauty and Dayna let her song fade into a gentle loneliness. Still, she was pleased. "I did it, Lauren," she whispered. "This actually... worked."

There came a knock on the door and the mood was abruptly ruined. "Oh, for crying out loud! The door is open. Come in," she sighed. She figured that Vila might as well finally see what he had helped her build.

But it wasn't Vila.

Avon walked in slowly. He looked past her at the harp on her worktable. "Where did you get that?" he asked. It was almost an accusation.

She overcame her startlement and replied casually: "I made it. Well, the parts might not have been obtained in a completely legal way-- that was Vila's doing. But I put them together." She realized she was blushing. Had she been singing too loudly? She frowned, abashed, and began to adjust the keys. "I... I wanted to make something that would remind me of home, of my father and my sister. It doesn't look too bad I think. Only I don't have it sounding quite right yet. Still a bit clumsy, if you ask me."

"I thought it sounded exceptional," Avon said quietly. "Exquisite, in fact."

Dayna had to stop her mouth from falling open in astonishment at this rare and quite uncharacteristic praise from the dispassionate man.

Trying to hide her beaming face, she said in a matter-of-fact voice: "Thank you. No, it needs a bit more work to adjust the tones, but I think it's coming along nicely."

Avon had been in a strange mood for these past weeks after the "Bartholomew" incident and perhaps he had been wandering sleeplessly again in the corridors. "May I...?" He inquired, leaning against the door frame next to where her NO GUNS ALLOWED sign hung, his arms crossed over his chest. When she looked at him in perplexity, he finished his sentence.

"...Stay here and listen?"

"Uh... sure," she said, knowing suddenly what stage fright was like. "Again, it's rough and needs lots of--"

His face was grim, unreadable. "Don't ever apologize for your accomplishments. It demeans them."

"Right." This was weird and not like Avon at all; she was even more uncomfortable. But she straightened her shoulders with resolve and gave a quick sigh. Surely to him, it was also very uncharacteristic for her to be singing songs.

She began to play.

After a few minutes she had forgotten Avon was even there. Her fingers glided over the strings and the notes cascaded in accompaniment to her voice, sung in barely a whisper at first, then with more confidence and fluidity.

When she finally looked up again with a finishing sigh, she saw that Avon was no longer in the room, probably having slipped silently away halfway through her song. Rather than being dismayed that he had done so, she was now convinced she was much better than she had actually thought. If she could touch even Avon's brittle heart, she must have some ability after all. And she smiled, satisfied.

It was then that a tentative Vila poked his head in. "Er, I saw the the door was open. You're not going to throw a pocket grenade at me for interrupting--?"

This new smile was genuine as well. "No, Vila, come in."

The small thief was grinning wickedly from ear-to-ear as he entered. "Just passed Avon. I think the corridor must need to be swept again. All that dust does have a tendency to get in the eyes..."

"Vila, your little creature seems to approve of my singing." She indicated where it sat propped on her bed, a tiny audience. "Thank you for your help. Sincerely." She put her harp down and went to hand the creature to him. "Do you think someone else needs its artistic encouragement this time?"

"Not Avon. It'll come back to me eviscerated." He beamed then. "Well, can you play for ALL of us now? I know Cally will definitely love it!"

It would be the first time the harp ever left the sanctuary of her room.
Edited by Rainesz on 12 September 2016 10:31:41
 
Angry Angel
That was really good Rainesz, you wrote Dayna realistically but also more sympathetically than she usually appears on the show.
 
http://lucyravenscar.blogspot.com/
Rainesz
@Angry Angel, thank you!! Smile
I actually love Dayna and she, like Cally and Jenna, needed some more character development. Smile (Soolin also was just beginning to become her own person too late in the series.)
I also wanted to bring the harp back because it was only ever shown in Sarcophagus. (Where had it come from?)
Edited by Rainesz on 11 September 2016 09:01:19
 
Angry Angel
Rainesz wrote:

I also wanted to bring the harp back because it was only ever shown in Sarcophagus. (Where had it come from?)


I love how fanfic answers the questions we never knew we should be asking!
 
http://lucyravenscar.blogspot.com/
Rainesz
Also, I already loved this artwork from Atomicmayo as well, and she did an excellent job giving Dayna a personality outside of what we saw on the show. I was inspired!!! (Thank you, Atomicmayo! Grin )
 
Travisina
Wonderful, Rainesz! I love the way you delved into Dayna's personality and brought out credible interactions with Vila and Avon. And being a sucker for stories that join the canon dots, I love the way it ties together 'Rumours' and 'Sarcophagus' with the origins of Dayna's harp. Kudos!
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
Rainesz
@Travisina, thank you so much!!
Sorry for the length again-- I got a little enthusiastic... Pfft
 
littlesue
I just love the way all these stories fill in the 'gaps' between episodes.
And may I say just how beautifully crafted these stories are.
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...
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sues book shelf https://www.media...ne%20Shelf
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