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Challenge #00143: Angst in Eyeliner

Why “poetry night” at the X-Mansion was canceled.

[AN: You have no idea how hard it was not to quote Vogon Poetry for this one…]

“…come for me. Come for my love. Come for my hate. Come for the tiredness I feel for breath. Death, come like a lover…”

_So,_ Jean thought to the Professor, _Three years of therapy and counting  for our dear little Rogue. How much for us?_

_Considering there’s fifteen pages of this?_ the Professor thought back. _I may as well install a revolving door in the psychotherapy studio._

“…wipe away the hate and tears. Wipe away the joy that was never mine…”

_Maybe,_ the Professor telepathically admitted, _poetry night was a bad idea…_

[Muse food remaining: 5 (fic war prompts 0). Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]

Challenge #00142: One Fine Day in Transylvania Polygnostic....

’…y'know what, etching “YOU’RE WRONG!” into the surface of the moon with a giant laser, without specifying exactly who was wrong about what, could be freaking hilarious.’

“Settle down, Snapcase,”

“This is theoretical mechanica, not theoretical mass psychology. Save it for the right forum, Snapcase.”

“And don’t say anything in front of Fozdyke. He’s a plagiarist.”

“Hey!”

“Well, you are…”

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FicWar Prompt? If you're still taking them? :) Kurt struggling through grievous injury to help his friends in a dire situation.

(#00141)

[AN: Yes, I am taking ficwar prompts. I’m doing one story a day, every day, for as long as humanly possible. Give me lots of prompts. Feed the beast ;) ]

Friends. His friends were trapped. Kurt tried to get up, and was rewarded by searing pain. He dropped back down. Okay. Think. This wasn’t the first time he’d been unable to use his legs. Last time, they’d been burned.

Bloody Winzeldorf.

His faithful tail still worked, though some

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FicWar Prompt

Building a superhighway with good intentions.

(#00140)

[AN: Shoutout to Sir Tim Berners-Lee and the monster he created]

“See, with quantum entanglement, we might not be able to transmit objects, but we can transmit data. That’s still a breakthrough,” she argued. “You can send data to a 3D printer on mars, or in orbit of Jupiter, and instructions to go with it. Without the comms delay of conventional radio.”

“And what about temporally-joined entanglements? Can

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Evoverse - even heroes can die, and no matter what you do and how much you try, it's not possible to save everyone (GO AHEAD, MAKE ME CRY...

(#00139)

Cold. Remember the three O’s.

Objective. Orientation. Orders.

Objective. Get the survivors safe.

Orientation. Back to the plane. If plane empty, downhill and downstream.

Orders. Stay safe.

Sara hunched inside her impromptu space-blanket cloak and wished her bio-mimetic battle outfit (a) covered more territory and (b) was warmer than it was.

Splint done. This individual would need help getting down. Travois. Skis and blankets and gaff. Loads of gaff. Drag them out and catch up with the last of the

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Another ficwar prompt: The one time when it mattered, Sara failed.

(#00138)

Negative. Again. For the thirty-ninth time.

Sara tried to control her breathing. She did everything she could to remain quiet, but inside her head… a thousand suns were exploding.

Their anniversary was next week. Their third anniversary.

It was crucial that this test be positive. And, for the thirty-ninth time in a row… negative.

She’d failed him.

And now he’d go away.

To someone more shapely. To someone more fertile. To someone who would not wake him up at

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Challenge #00137: Elves Don't Live Forever.

As per the fic war… go old school. Kitty realizes her feelings for Kurt after he dies in some horrible manner. KILL ME.

[AN: Fic war prompts will have priority while they are in my inbox. I will get to the others in the fullness of time.]

They got most of the people out. Not all. Nobody could have got all of them out. And for a change everyone was working together. Lance beside Scott. Fred beside Jean. Pietro beside Ororo&

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Challenge #00136: Just Like Her Father

“No one ever tells you that the true taste of victory is not sweet; it lies like bitter ashes upon the tongue.”

Da had always said that.

Young Cordelia had never understood her father’s caution. Victory had to be good. Otherwise it wouldn’t make sense. And it really, really had to make sense now, with Da taken hostage and herself in disguise behind enemy lines with a pack of mercenaries as the only hope of getting

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Challenge #00135: Offerings of Embarassment

Cherry pie.

JOATs, by and large, are nocturnal. Either by accident or design, they largely manage to find themselves awake at 3AM when sleep is impossible and the ideas flow like a madman’s flood and nothing, NOTHING is impossible.

Rael, designed to be useful during most hours of the day, only needed a few hours’ rest in his heated fish tank before being functional once more. He rather liked the, for JOATS, earlier hours of 7AM to 10AM when

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Challenge #00134: Wrong Call

End with: “Only as the full measure of events came to bear did he realize that she was WAY out of his league.”

The envelope was fancy. Paul checked it five times to make sure that the embellished envelope had actually made it to the right destination. But there weren’t that many Paul Pleskins in Southwark County. And only one in the trailer park where he eked out an existence doing day work and temp jobs.

The return

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Challenge #00133: One Fine Day in a Play Park

Shayde and Nanny have a semi-civilized chat while watching the artist take a LOOOOONG overdue day off in the park to recharge. Vendors notice the juxtaposition with mild curiosity.

Julie was on the swings. Laughing. She’d been on them for half an hour and, without any other instruction, was likely to stay on them for the rest of the day.

“Be careful,” Nanny barked for the fifth time since Julie had sat in the swing.

“Aw, rest

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Challenge #00132: Monster in My House

Mr. Winters and how he ruined Scott Summers. Xavier makes an appearance.

Scott Summers devoted as much time as he could to extracurricular activities. If they were free ones, all the better. Money was a problem for Scott.

Mister Winters did not like Scott wasting money.

The ones that earned money were better, and funded the ones that didn’t. And sometimes contributed to his dinner.

But he had to be home by seven. Or Mister Winters would get angry.

Mister

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Ethical Heroism

Sam, Scott and defeating monsters while keeping one’s dignity.

(#00131)

The alleged victim was a monster. Scott had no doubt, because he was privy to a lot of stuff that the prosecution’s lawyers had managed to get removed from this trial.

The exact kind of monster who sued his victim.

Things were looking very bad, especially since his mutant defendant looked like a cross between a warthog and cthulu. Jurors judged by appearances, and none of Sara’

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Ding, Dong, Is The Witch Really Dead?

Jelly, Ice Cream, Maggie Thatcher and Sara’s obsession with all things empirical.

(#00130)

“Ah, the end of an era,” sighed Sara.

Kitty peeked. She was watching international news over a bowl of jelly and ice-cream, where people were protesting in the streets and holding giant puppets. It was interspersed with grainy old stock footage of people rioting. “Normally I like, ignore your what-the-heck moments, but… What the heck?”

“Margret Thatcher has passed on.”

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Creep

Anywhere in the story: “The element of surprise didn’t so much rest upon someone hearing you but registering the significance of your approach.”

(#00129)

“Okay,” said Rael. “They stole my coat. They somehow turned off your powers. We have, perhaps, two hours at most before they set off their doomsday bomb and all we have is the contents of a rather spacious storage closet with nothing useful in it. What, might I ask, is your

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