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March 2015 Fanfic Challenge
purplecleric
Well, 'red' certainly sent imaginations into overdrive, so let's try another three letter word.

The prompt for March is ... MAD

Mental illness or insanity? Very foolish idea or behaviour? Really angry? All strong B7 themes, and of course there's one definition we're all familiar with - to be very enthusiastic about something Grin

And for those looking for more, try completing this scene:

They crouched uncomfortably under the bench. Dayna opened her mouth to speak but Tarrant silenced her with a long finger held to his lips. Her eyes widened as she heard the noise. Ears straining, holding their breath, they listened to the sound of footsteps drawing near.



Have fun!
Edited by Travisina on 01 March 2016 21:34:18
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
Having been left stranded in time, space and television by a cunning Servalan plan, our heroes Avon and Vila were last seen facing a fate worse than death as they materialised on ITV; after rapidly hurling themselves into a void of uncertainty and possible destruction to avoid dinner with the Granthams, where would they arrive next...




Here is a box, a musical box, wound up and ready to play! But this box can hide a secret inside. Can you guess what is in it today?

“It’s Vila, the Freedom Fighter. Hello Vila!” (Vila waves)

“You look worried. Have you lost something?” (Vila nods)

“Or is it a friend you have lost?” (Vila nods again)

“May we help you look for him?” (Vila nods approval, and finds himself outside a bakery)

Vila looks up and down the road, but there is nobody else about. Maybe there will be someone inside the bakery that he can ask about his friend. Ah, here is Mister Murphy taking some cakes out of the oven. “Those cakes smell nice” says Vila, and Mister Murphy takes a rock cake off the tray and offers it to him. But oh dear, Vila doesn’t have any money to pay for a cake. Never mind, Mister Murphy says he can try this one for free as long as he doesn’t tell the whole village. Vila asks the baker if he has seen his friend today, but Vila is his first customer. “Have you come from far away?” asks Mister Murphy, but Vila doesn’t quite know how to explain where he lives! He tells the baker that he lost his friend when they left an Abbey together, and explains that his friend has a very important box which they both need. But Mister Murphy hasn’t seen Vila’s friend or the box. But wait a minute, here comes Mrs Honeyman with her baby. If she doesn’t know where Vila’s friend has gone then nobody does! “Good morning, Mrs Honeyman” says Mister Murphy, and she tells him all about the new telephone lines and Windy Miller needing to repair the mill and farmer Bell helping him fetch the parts on his lorry and oh dear, she chatters so much that Mister Murphy can’t ask her about Vila’s lost friend. “Excuse me” says Vila, and of course Mrs Honeyman stops and listens to him because she wants to know who he is and how long he’s staying and what he’s doing in the village and... well, you get the idea. And it just happens that Mrs Honeyman has seen Vila’s friend. Oh, and it seems that he was very rude to her and told her to go away. Vila wants to know where his friend went after insulting Mrs Honeyman, but now he can’t get a word in either. It seems that Avon wanted to talk to someone in authority in the village, and so Mrs Honeyman sent him to talk to Dr Mopp. “Thank you” says Vila to Mister Murphy, who says that Vila is welcome to visit the bakery at any time and gives him another cake to take away with him. After all, it might take Vila all day to find Avon and the special box. But wait, here is Avon now! He is riding in Dr Mopp’s car. “What took you so long” says Avon. Oh dear, it sounds like he’s in a bad mood today. But never mind, Vila has found Avon and the box.

“Hello Vila, are you happy that you found Avon?” (Vila nods)

“Well, you can carry on your journey now. Goodbye, Vila!” (Vila waves goodbye)


Apologies to anyone unfamiliar with that particular corner of British television culture; here is a Youtube Video if none of the above makes any sense whatsoever. PC, is a Blake's 7/Camberwick Green crossover mad enough to satisfy the word prompt?
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
littlesue
Oh SD, absolutely briliant.
Grandson and I have just recently watched Camberwick Green..he was most concerned that Windy Miller was making strong home made cider and handing it out to passerbys who then drove off...without seatbelts!!!!
And as for Trumpton!!?? He watched an episode where the Firemen, Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, Grub, were going round putting up posters...with no one holding the ladder! In all seriousness he remarked "That's a serious health and safety issue there!"
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/
 
Ellen York
SD, I'm seriously impressed with how quickly you come up with stories for the prompts. Are you getting inside information? Wink
 
Anniew
Well SD that sets the bar uncomfortably high! Hilarious!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
Thanks Sue, Ellen and Annie Happy



@ Ellen - no, there's no insider info! I'm just a spontaneous writer and tend to type straight from my imagination to the page, with the voices of the cast rattling on inside my head as best I can remember them to get the dialogue accurate. It does mean that other people write stuff that's more considered and goes through revisions that my fanfics don't, but I'm happier that way and just write for fun (but always from the heart too) Grin
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
Lurena
SD that's a good laugh! Thanks for your story.
Thank you for the Youtube link; indeed I'm one of those unfamiliar with that TV series and your story didn't make sense until I watched the first glimpse of that show!
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/
Anniew
Mad,Bad and Dangerous to know.

The shouts and screams coming from the bedroom were familiar but still frightening. His father must be trying to feed her. Hungry himself, he wandered into the kitchen but there was nothing obvious to eat, just packs of the protein cubes that were kept especially for his mother. His father had forgotten to order anything again.

For a moment he hesitated but he really was hungry and although he'd looked in all the usual places, he couldn't even find any food packs to reheat. Plenty of bottles of course, mainly distilled spirits but wine too and a flask of soma which was kept for her especially bad days, when the injections were not enough to calm her. He filled a glass with water from the filtration unit while he assessed the risk of taking some of the cubes. It wasn't an unreasonable thing to do. He was hungry and parents were supposed to feed their children but his father's views on this were unpredictable. He could still feel the pain of the box on his ears he'd received the last time he was home and had done something similar. Father had been drinking heavily of course - he drank most days but usually in the evening. That day, however, he'd received the news about Tareg and had started early.

To hell with it, he decided defiantly, the touch of pride he took in his daring use of the forbidden word betraying his youth. I'll risk it. Suabba, their maid/housekeeper would be back tomorrow and would be able to order some more. He grabbed three of the cubes and took them back with him into the Receiving room - though the family's days of receiving visitors were long past- curled himself neatly on one of the comfortable couches and picked up an old copy of Science Weekly. Soon he was immersed in its pages, nibbling his cubes while reading theories about matter transportation and the promising breakthroughs that had been made in the development of the star drive. The articles were adult and should have been beyond his understanding but he had a fierce interest in anything scientific and a precocious intelligence, though it was not, as his father was fond of pointing out, as advanced as Tareg's.

An observer would have noted he was a slim lad, startlingly pale, with a manner too old for his eleven years and eyes that had seen too much, without understanding it all. He knew for instance that his home life was not the same as that of other boys at The Academy from the banter they exchanged with each other, the casual teasing, boasting and shared stories of sleep-overs, none of which he had ever experienced. It set him apart and that, as much as the cutting-edged cynicism he had cultivated as self-protection, meant that he had made no friends. But exactly why his life was so different was a mystery. His family's peculiarities were a taboo subject, as was any mention of his mother's increasingly erratic behaviour. He knew The Academy was concerned that his home life might affect his emotional stability, as it had Tareg's, which was apparently why his tutor was encouraging him to become a full boarder. This would mean he only had to be home for the occasional public holiday - a bonus but one he had, so far, resisted. Given some of the rumours he'd heard, he distrusted that his tutor had made the offer from a simple concern for his well being.

"You're home I see." His father's entry into the room startled him and he hastily swallowed the remains of his last cube, surreptitious wiping the crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand.

Obviously, he thought dryly but had the sense not to voice it and replied simply, "Yes. I'm home."

" You'd better come an see her now then." His father's tone brooked no denial, so he got up immediately and joined him.

As they climbed the long staircase together the differences between them were striking. His father, like Tareg, was thick set, both less graceful than the boy and more physically robust, though in his father's case, muscle was now running to fat. He favoured his mother and this was obvious when his father opened the door and Eleveran Avon, rose to greet them, same graceful build, dark hair, deep, unfathomable eyes.

"Darling," she exclaimed theatrically. "How lovely."

For a moment he thrilled as the thought, She recognises me. She loves me, flashed absurdly through his mind but his hope was rapidly disappointed.

"Tareg, you naughty, naughty boy. Why haven't you been to see me? " his mother trilled, moving towards him with flirtatious delight, and he steeled himself not to show the distaste and disquiet he felt as she swooped down on him, the very emotions that had driven Tareg to leave the Academy and enlist in the army.

The lips were shiny, scarlet smeared beyond their chiselled contours, the nails jagged, the varnish on them chipped from the restless, drumming dance her fingers performed ceaseless on the arms of her chair whenever she was without an audience. A faint moisture gathered in the corners of the mouth and, like a limpet, she bent swiftly, crushing her lips to his. He was ashamed to feel a slight arousal mixed in with his revulsion at their moist touch, enough to feel a response as she moved a finger to wipe away the smear of lipstick the kiss had deposited on his mouth. For a moment their gaze's locked and then she drew back sharply, her face puzzled as she assessed him. Without warning, a striking snake, her hand flicked painfully across his cheek, words escaping her in a screaming hiss:

"Who are you? Who are you? What have you done with my son? "

Instantly his father stepped forward, syringe already in hand and made the injection but not swiftly enough to prevent one of her nails catching the boy's face, leaving a thin red trail.

---
"I've been offered a boarding place at the Academy, Father. I think I'll take it."

He was aware of the warmth of his father's body, as they sat together on the couch, his father sitting closer than usual, not touching him but communicating a rare, tacit support. It was this that lulled his usually controlled mind to frame and voice an unguarded question, the one that bothered him the most:

"It's not hereditary is it, her madness? Tareg and I won't ...?"

He sensed the blow before it fell and so was partially able to block its impact.

---
He had never returned home. Public holidays were spent first with his tutor and then with anyone else who fancied his body. He succeeded academically and told no-one about that day, not even Anna. Never shared the knowledge that he was not his father's child and that it was his birth that had triggered his mother's mental collapse. Never told anyone she was mad.
---
Years later, consumed by his desire to kill another lying, seductively dangerous woman, he wonders whether the answer to the question, "Is it hereditary?", might not have been, "Yes."
Edited by Anniew on 02 March 2015 19:20:12
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Travisina
SD, you get the prize for speed writing and a gloriously random B7/Camberwick Green crossover.

Annie - wow! That's amazing; packs a real emotional punch.
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
Anniew
Travisina: Thank you. I'm glad it works. Managed to find an answer to my puzzle as to why Avon kisses Servalan! Bit purple-prosey but a lot of fun to imagine and write. Will try for something less angsty soon.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
JustBrad
Anniew wrote:

Mad,Bad and Dangerous to know.



Well done.
 
purplecleric
@SD - that's definitely mad enough to qualify. What an utterly bonkers idea!

@Anniew - that's one whallop of a bit of back story for Avon. Well done.
 
littlesue
@ Anniew

Wow.............................
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
@ SD: What a wonderfully surreal idea to put our tough terrorists into a cute children show! You managed to mimic the tone of these shows so well that the image of a kid show immediately sprang to mind although I’ve never heard of Camberwick Green before (somehow I was reminded of the Magic Roundabout).

Spaceship Dispatcher wrote:

I'm just a spontaneous writer and tend to type straight from my imagination to the page [...] It does mean that other people write stuff that's more considered and goes through revisions that my fanfics don't

I don’t believe you. I know what you are doing: You take your time to meticulously write your stories, and then at the end of the month you board your TARDIS, go back in time and post them. ... Or do you ask Sapphire for a favour? Mind you, if Steel finds out you may end up for eternity in a railway station! (Come to think of it, that might be no big threat for you ... and Sapphire is obviously worth a risk!)

@ Anniew: I love these back stories (showing how our heroes became what they are), and this one is very intense. Made me shudder. A story must be good to arouse such intensive reactions!
 
Anniew
Guys and Gals, thank you for positive feedback. I am writing a lot I know but it is helping me through some personally challenging times so I'm really grateful for this forum. Your posts give me new insights into the characters and I'm loving writing down the stories they inspire.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
Hugbot wrote:

@ SD: ... Mind you, if Steel finds out you may end up for eternity in a railway station! (Come to think of it, that might be no big threat for you ... and Sapphire is obviously worth a risk!)

I'm already here for eternity on a railway station! And yes, Sapphire can definitely have a job here. Grin

@ Annie - I'm going to read your story this evening once things quieten down (which has probably jinxed it)
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
Anniew
SD great. Tell me if it works for you and if it doesn't why not.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
Anniew wrote:

SD great. Tell me if it works for you and if it doesn't why not.

That's a very well written piece, Annie; your style is very easy to read and I would say that your ideas come across pretty well in the very limited amount of room we have in the monthly challenges. The device of exploring the madness of a family member was a nice way of fitting it in without overtly saying whether the condition does or doesn't affect the central character. I'm not inclined to comment too much on the ideas with specific reference to Avon for two reasons: one, we have very different views on the sort of person that Avon is and I don't wish to derail the thread; and secondly I'm not a big fan of back stories, even in Doctor Who, so it's the fanfic genre of telling childhood stories itself that doesn't work for me subjectively as much other things - but in no way does that mean your fic doesn't work, because it does. If that makes sense.
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
Anniew
SD. That makes absolute sense and thank you for taking the time to comment. Funnily enough I agree with you about back stories. They can kind of fix how you see a character and I actually enjoy writing about them in different ways. Though I guess an early career as a probation officer will always bias me towards the 'childhood trauma' theory of criminal motivation but I shall read your take on Avon and other characters with interest and maybe try creating a similar Avon , Blake, etc just for the challenge! I did after all meet some criminals who just liked the life-style. I think it was your comment about Servalan's reaction to kissing Avon that inspired this piece. At least I hope it was you. My memory is getting appalling and I can't remember the thread where the comment was made to check it out. Xx
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Mistletoe12
Anniew,

What a sad, poignant and beautifully written story. I'm glad I treated myself to a ficlet today! Smile
 
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