broadsword_babe: (Miranda (thoughtful))
We've all seen the meme: Pick an emotional state and I'll write you a drabble featuring my character and yours. Now here's your chance to pick a situation and and write that drabble with your character flying solo (should you feel inclined to add NPCs, go ahead).


1. Playful!
2. Murderous!
3. Flailing!
4. Incarcerated!
5. Deviant!
6. Ill! Injured
7. Intoxicated!
8. Wildly Inappropriate!
9. Eloquent!
10. Cooking!
11. Naked!
12. Bitchy!
13. Inexperienced!
14. Young!
15. Long-winded!
16. Bored to tears!
17. Jealous!
18. Inquisitive!
19. Confused!
20. Arrogant!
broadsword_babe: (Miranda (listening red))
Today's Sunday prompt requires a bit of explaining - this is a Choose Your Own Adventure type activity. Here's how we're going to do it.


1. Post the beginnings of a story, leaving off at an important/fun/silly decision making point. (for example, the character opens up the door, and finds.....)

2. Give multiple choices for what might lie beyond (in our example, it could be - A Package, A Strip-o-Gram, An Angry Neighbor)

3. Someone comments on your story and chooses one of the options.

4. You write another story snippet, once again leaving off at a decision point with multiple choices...

5. Someone comments and chooses an option, you write from that point, etc.

6. Repeat until a) one of the choices winds up in an ending of sorts (a disaster? a happy ending? just the end of the tale), or b) you get tired of continuing the story.



Here's where it gets interesting. There are two open-ended fics I'd like to continue for Quinn. So, not only do you get to choose what happens in the adventure, you get to pick the adventure itself:
  1. Quinn has to use the "holy ground" rule or die.
    1. Who was chasing her and why?
    2. Does someone let her in?
    3. How does it affect her life?
  2. Quinn has been incarcerated by Cardinal Richelieu. How does she escape? Does she:
    1. Overpower the guards and sneak out of the palace?
    2. The old bedsheet-out-the-window routine?
    3. She finds a secret passage?

broadsword_babe: (Miranda (sepia smile))
In the spirit of resurrecting memes, here is another round of pic-a-fics:

Pick a Quinn, any Quinn, and I'll write a fic based on her and your muse (or whichever character you'd like). I'm not familiar with all muses and/or fandoms, so please be gentle! You're welcome to pick up to three, and I'll write at least one maybe all three. ;)

1. Playful!Quinn
2. Murderous!Quinn
3. Flailing!Quinn
4. Incarcerated!Quinn
5. Deviant!Quinn
6. Dirty!Quinn
7. Intoxicated!Quinn
8. Desperate!Quinn
9. Eloquent!Quinn
10. Cooking!Quinn
11. Naked!Quinn
12. Remorseful!Quinn
13. Cheeky!Quinn
14. Young!Quinn
15. Warrior!Quinn
16. Bedtime!Quinn
17. Jealous!Quinn
18. Inquisitive!Quinn
19. Gloating!Quinn
20. Arrogant!Quinn
21. Pissed-Off!Quinn
22. Loving!Quinn
23. Tropical!Quinn
24. Needs-a-Hug!Quinn
25. Choose-your-own!Quinn
broadsword_babe: (Stock (cowgirl))
Where: Eastern New Mexico
When: February 14, 1983
Alias: Elaine Brown


"Marry me."

I nearly choked on my mouthful of hashbrowns, and stared at him. "I... Uh... What?"

He smiled at my nearly being speechless. "I know this isn't the most romantic spot to ask and all, but you know the kids love you."

He was right about that. A Waffle House somewhere in the middle of eastern New Mexico wasn't exactly a ritzy restaurant in Paris. I stared at him and then looked over at the two kids swinging back and forth on the counter stools.

Truth was, I loved them, too. And they needed a mom. And I liked feeling needed.

I looked at him again, speechless. There he was, in a faded cotton shirt, his best jeans, the belt buckle he'd just won, and his brown sweat-stained hat on the seat next to him, upside down. I watched as he dug around in his pocket, not an easy thing to do, given the fit of the Wranglers. He pulled something out, but kept it in his hand so I wouldn't see it.

"This was my granma's," he said softly. "It's the only thing I have of hers. Normally, I'd wanta ask your daddy first, but since he ain't here..."

My throat closed on the lie. I'd tried to avoid him out on the circuit. I wanted time to myself, time to forget about the past ninety years. But he was always there, every rodeo, every town, every motel. That had lasted all of three months. The next three months were spent getting to know him and his two kids.

"Wade, I..." I tried to protest.

He then showed me the ring: a deep green emerald in a platinum setting. My heart stopped. I didn't realize he was serious.

"But... I... you don't know anything about me," I finally managed to say.

"The way I figure it, we've got the rest of our lives to sort all that out," he answered simply. "Besides, Elaine, no one's supposed to be alone. Even you."

The small restaurant turned into a massive watery blur as I realized he was right. So what if he was a mortal and I wasn't? We could make it work, couldn't we?

Two weeks later, we were standing in front of a Justice of the Peace in Albuquerque, and I hadn't known him for a full year. Funny how things work out.
broadsword_babe: (Miranda (jeans))
The scent of steaming popcorn filled the downstairs. Rain had blown in again, and it was a perfect night to curl up on the sofa and watch old movies. Cozy blanket? Check. Popcorn? Check. Soda? Check. Remote controller? ...

It wasn't on the tea table where Quinn could've sworn she left it. Under the tea table? No... Side table? No... Under the sofa? No... Grumbling to herself, she went to find the dog.

She followed the munching/crunching sounds into the study where she'd lit a fire earlier. The massive silvery/gray deerhound was laying in his usual spot in front of the hearth, the remote held firmly between his massive front paws.

"Ahem," Quinn said pointedly. Brutæ looked up at her with a patently sheepish look. "Fer God's sake! That's the third controller this month! Gimme that!"

She resisted the urge to clout the beast. Instead, she wiped the slimy dog slobber off on her jeans and walked back into the front room. One of these days, she'd have to have a talk with Merlin about that dog.
broadsword_babe: (Miranda (Freyja))
Your muse has been captured or imprisoned and must rely on an enemy or a complete stranger to secure their release.


When: April, 1630
Where: Paris, France
Alias: Gabrielle Dubois Vicomtesse d'Anjou


Freyja exited the carriage with a sense of foreboding. When one was summoned by Cardinal Richelieu, refusal was simply not done. She had never before met the Cardinal, second in power only to King Louis XIII, and she was not aware the Chief Minister even knew of her existence. She tucked away her fear into a small corner of her mind and climbed the steps of Le Palais Cardinal as though it were an everyday occurrence.

Once inside the imposing structure, a valet took her cloak and gloves and another richly-clothed footman showed her to the Cardinal's formal offices. Gabrielle held her elegantly-coiffed head high, and tried not to gape at the opulence surrounding her.

The servant's footsteps echoed hollowly down the corridor. She spotted several other dignitaries along their route, nodding to those who acknowledged her, ignoring those who didn't. Guards dressed in the red tabbards of the Cardinal stood at several doorways and at intersecting passages. She couldn't imagine why Richelieu wanted to meet with her at all.

Read more... )
Quinnleigh Kincaid
Gabrielle Dubois
Highlander OC
1228 Words
{OOC: I know no one requested Incarcerated!Quinn, but the idea was too good to pass up. Any muses are welcome to come to her aide & bendy time is shiny!}


broadsword_babe: (Miranda (sword 1))
I had been a student at the temple for centuries. It was one of the few places Immortals could train and live without fear of losing their heads. The temple itself was in a secluded valley high in the mountains between Nepal and Tibet. The surrounding village had no real name, but in the centuries to come, one author would call it Shangri-La.

"You know I don't like you very much," I said to the other Immortal standing on the opposite side of the rice mat. I ran my hands down the length of the quarterstaff to emphasize my point.

"I don't expect you to," he answered. "You don't have to like me to learn something."

"Good," I replied sharply, lunging at him with the end of the staff.

He easily batted it away with the end of his own. The resounding "crack" reverberated off the teak walls of the practice dojo. We continued to circle each other, looking for possible weaknesses.

"Do you really expect me to believe you've changed since then?" I asked bitterly. "You kept her as a slave, Methos."

He swung one end of his own quarterstaff towards me, which I evaded by nearly bending over backward. "That was nearly three thousand years ago, Freyja. Times were different."

Again, I thrust my staff towards him, and he blocked it. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to admit defeat just yet.

"Besides, she doesn't need you to fight her battles for her," he goaded, and it worked.

The next few minutes were a blur of staffs and a cacophony of thwaps and cracks. I winced as he rapped my knuckles sharply with his quarterstaff. Instinctively, I let go of the weapon, and Methos took every advantage of that. Before I knew it, the staff had gone flying and I was on my back with him on top of me, his own quarterstaff pressed firmly against my windpipe.

Methos had the advantage of weight and leverage, whereas I had agility and flexibility on my side. Pulling my knees even with my shoulders, I managed to wiggle my feet into his stomach. Kicking as hard as I could, I managed to push him away.

"Alright," he wheezed, winded. "The match is yours. We may make a warrior of you, yet."

He offered his hand in truce, and rather than use it to pull myself up, I pulled him down instead. Using a move I'd worked on perfecting for years, I flipped him over my head and used my momentum to follow suit so that I ended up pinning him to the mat instead.

"Is that right?" I asked. "And sacking three Roman outposts, decimating a Legion, and nearly kicking the Empire off Briton has nothing to do with it?"

Rather than wait for an answer, I simply stood up. I wasn't feeling generous enough to offer my hand, and no sooner had I turned my back than Methos swept my legs out from under me. I was so surprised that I didn't have time to check my fall and ended up chin-first into the mat, nearly biting the tip of my tongue off in the process.

"Nothing at all," he replied snidely before leaving the dojo.

"I still don't like you!" I shouted after him.

Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true.
broadsword_babe: (Stock (castle))
Watching the sun set from the conservatory was one of my favourite things to do before turning in for the night. Seeing that it didn't actually set until nearly half-ten, I had plenty of time to change into pjs, make a cuppa, and sit back and relax, maybe listen to a spot of Beethoven.

I had just finished my tea when Brutæ suddenly stood and let out a soft whine. Instantly, I tensed. Brutæ was usually my first line of defense when it came to Headhunters. He would often warn me far enough in advance so that I wasn't caught by surprise. But tonight, his behaviour was out of his usual hell-raising norm. Instead of barking and snarling and getting his fur up, Brutae simply padded off to the reception hall and waited patiently by the door. That, in and amongst itself, confused me to no end.
Read more... )
broadsword_babe: (Miranda (right cheek))
Quinn stared at her computer screen and sighed. It had been much too long since she'd contacted Cassandra, and it wasn't very well done of her. After all, the woman had taught her a lot about being an Immortal woman, and now with a student of her own, Quinn could appreciate everything Cass had done for her.

It would've been much easier to just reply to her First Teacher's email, but she knew better. Even though she was on the other side of the Atlantic, picking up the phone was probably the best choice. It wouldn't be easy, but she knew Cass would appreciate it.

Quinn dialed the number at the bottom of the email and waited for Cass to pick up. When it went to voice mail, she was tempted to hang up, but decided to leave a message instead.

"Cass, it's Quinn," she said, remorsefully. "Look, I'm sorry about not having called sooner. I know we haven't talked in awhile, and I know that's my fault. I'm sorry we've lost touch. I have a new student now, and there's something else I'd like to talk to you about as well."

She left her number in hopes that Cass would call back, and hung up the phone. The "something else" she wanted to discuss was Adam, or more accurately, Methos. He had held her First Teacher captive, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. Granted, it had been, literally, eons ago, and she wasn't exactly asking permission, per se, but it would be nice to know that their friendship wouldn't cause any friction.

Quinn stared out of the windows of her study that looked out over the sea, and waited for Cass to call her back.

Pic-A-Fics

2 Jul 2008 07:57 pm
broadsword_babe: (Stock (headdesk))
Right, I know I have a bunch of fics t'write, but I'm having a bloody bad time with them! So, here's th'thing, if ye've requested a fic, please dear Gawd give me somethin' t'go on! Some of ye I know, some I wish I knew better. So, if ye wouldn't mind givin' me a nudge in the right direction, I'd appreciate it!
broadsword_babe: (Miranda (laughing))
Set during this

So, Confession wasn't as exciting as I was thinking it'd be, and Wes didn't get off work until later. Which left Aidan and I at loose ends, and with both of us being Scottish, and in a bar, we were bound and determined to try and drink each other under the nearest table. That's when the game of "Truth or Dare" started.

"Dare," I said, my mouth getting the better of me.
Read more... )
broadsword_babe: (Miranda (amused))
Pick Your Fic

Pick a Quinn, any Quinn, and I'll write a fic based on her and your muse (or whichever character you'd like). I'm not familiar with all muses and/or fandoms, so please be gentle! You're welcome to pick up to three, and I'll write at least one maybe all three. ;)

1. Playful!Quinn [livejournal.com profile] igotasword
2. Murderous!Quinn
3. Flailing!Quinn
4. Incarcerated!Quinn
5. Deviant!Quinn
6. Post-Quickening!Quinn [livejournal.com profile] iris_angel [Done]
7. Intoxicated!Quinn
8. Wildly Inappropriate!Quinn [livejournal.com profile] lt_wes_janson [Done!]
9. Eloquent!Quinn
10. Cooking!Quinn [livejournal.com profile] im_gavin_elliot
11. Naked!Quinn
12. Remorseful!Quinn [livejournal.com profile] voiceofthewoods [Done]
13. Faux Innocent!Quinn
14. Young!Quinn
15. Not-so-Eloquent!Quinn [livejournal.com profile] immortalgrayson [Done]
16. Bedtime!Quinn [livejournal.com profile] iris_angel [Done]
17. Jealous!Quinn
18. Inquisitive!Quinn
19. Gloating!Quinn
20. Arrogant!Quinn
21. Pissed-Off!Quinn
22. Loving!Quinn
23. Seaside!Quinn
24. Needs-a-Hug!Quinn
25. Choose-your-own!Quinn
a) Annoyed!Quinn [livejournal.com profile] immortal_connor [Done]
b) Student!Quinn [livejournal.com profile] iris_angel [Done]
c) Sword lessons!Quinn [livejournal.com profile] im_gavin_elliot

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