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The rules:

- Below is a base drabble. Anyone may take any phrase from that base drabble and work it into a new drabble.

- All 100-word drabbles in the drabble tree (except the writer's own drabbles) are fair game. The new drabble should be posted as a reply.

- Each drabble must be based (however loosely) on a fairy tale, folklore, fable, myth or legend.

- Your drabble may be a "sequel" to the drabble you're replying to, but it should be able to stand on its own.
* Exception: You MAY NOT write a "sequel" to someone else's original drabble.

- You may write your own original drabble in reply to someone else's original drabble. If you repost your original drabble elsewhere, please link back to the original drabble that you replied to as a courtesy.

- Include your fandom (shorthand/abbreviation is acceptable), characters/pairings and the drabble rating in the subject line. You may also include a title.
e.g. Chasing Fairies (HP, Draco and Scorpius, PG)
OR, Untitled (ST:XI, Sulu/Chekov, R)
OR, The Empty Throne (Original, Eric, PG-13)

- Each drabble must be 100 words exactly. If you go over 100 words, you may post your flopsy but it will be a "dead branch" and replies to that comment will be frozen. Include your 100+ word count in the subject line.
Similarly, if you go under 100 words, you may post your drabblet but it will be a "dead branch." Include your 100- word count in the subject line.
e.g. Tattoos (GO, Anathema, PG-13, 115 words)
OR, Untitled (Narnia, Susan, G, 93 words)

- Please spell-check and reread your drabble before posting it. This is to avoid comment deletion & reposting. (If you have a paid account, you can edit your comment as long as nobody has replied to it yet.)

ETA 08/22/2010: - There's no need to bold the relevant phrase in your drabble.

- After September 19, feel free to compile your drabble(s) and post them at mukashi2.

- Last but not least, have fun! =D




When the Match Burns Out (Merlin, Gwen and Tom, PG)

“But why did she do that?” Gwen's brown eyes looked wounded.

Her father hid a wince. Hans Christian Andersen was perhaps not the best bedtime story. But Gwen had loved the beautifully illustrated pages: the mother and her flower daughter, the fierce mermaid sisters with their shorn hair, the little dancer looking back at her soldier.

“Her grandmother was the only one who’d ever loved her,” Tom said. He had skipped over the part where the little match-seller’s father was abusive.

Gwen mulled this over, then said solemnly, “I won’t ask mum to take me with her. I have you.”

Comments

lilian_cho
Aug. 27th, 2010 04:16 am (UTC)
The Cobweb of Family Secrets (Sherlock, John and Harry, PG)
“Tell me about your flatmate.”

“What’d you like to know?” John asked his sister warily.

“Is he an axe murderer, is there a closet of butchered bodies…?”

“He keeps human eyeballs in a microwavable jar,” John muttered into his coffee.

“What?”

“Sherlock.” John set down his mug. “Eccentric, brilliant, plays the violin at unreasonable hours, solves crimes—he also deduced that you’re an alcoholic from the mobile phone you gave me.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “John, you didn’t.”

“You know I wouldn’t.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You don’t need to breathe for Sherlock to infer your innermost secrets.”
utterlunacy
Aug. 27th, 2010 05:09 pm (UTC)
Bluebeard's Chamber (Inception, Ariadne and Eames, PG)
'What was it like?' Eames looked relaxed, but his eyes were intense as he glanced at her over his book.

Ariadne shook her head and frowned in confusion. 'What was what like?'

'Cobb's subconscious. Word has it you've been down there.'

She shook her head again, this time in negation. She turned back to watching the doorway for Cobb to return.

'Was it Bluebeard's chamber, then? Full of butchered bodies?'

Full of butchered memories. 'Something like that,' she said with a quick, strained smile.

He looked at her, got the message and shut up.
lilian_cho
Aug. 31st, 2010 02:06 am (UTC)
A weed among hothouse flowers (Original, Aram, Rubin, G)
Aram fidgeted with his gem-encrusted collar. He could get away with wearing a soldier uniform on the battlefield, but nothing less than the official Court Sorcerer garb was good enough for this occasion.

After five years at court, he still felt uncomfortable in opulent clothes, like a weed among hothouse flowers.

"Our guest of honor had finally arrived!" King Rubin lifted his cup in greeting. Everyone sitting at the long table cheered.

"I want you to dance with at least two ladies tonight, do you hear me?"

Aram gave a quick, strained smile. "I won’t disappear at midnight, Your Majesty."