just reminded me of the existence of the poetry flashfic meme, which reminded me I had an unfinished one! So I dug it out and finished it:Rules
1: Pick five fandoms. List them in alphabetical order.
2: Visit this site to find your first RANDOM POEM OF POWER. Write down the 5th line (yes, even if it's an E.E. Cummings poem and you wind up with an apostrophe). Repeat five times and - you guessed it - list them in alphabetical order! (No cheating, mind! This is a challenge and it's always been about creativity.)
3: I think you can see where this is going. Write a very quick 50-word half-drabble for each fandom (try to do it all in one sitting), using the line from the poem as a prompt. You don't have to include it in the half-drabble - it's just inspiration.
4: Bravo! Have a cookie.
I have lost the actual poem authors and names, so apologies for that, but here are the fics:Chalet School (Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: )
“Is it not difficult, to teach girls of many nationalities? Are they not too different?”
Hilda smiles at the prospective parent. “There are some differences, certainly, but really what I notice most are their similarities! Under the veneer of training, the essential natures of our girls are much the same.”Critical Role: Mighty Nein (nights of ink and dawn )
Caleb looks up, blinking wearily as he stretches cramped fingers. Finally, he’s finished transcribing the last of the scrolls he’s been carrying into his spellbook. Glancing towards the window, he’s surprised to see it’s not pitch dark any more, the first grey light of dawn beginning to spread. Worth it
.Critical Role: Vox Machina (of his audience )
Scanlan inspects the crowd in the tavern appraisingly. These people look mostly like farmers… the ballad of a ploughboy doing great deeds to win his true love’s heart, that should go down well. Leaping onto a table, he claps his hands. “Good folk! Can I interest you in a song?”High Rollers: Aerois (or decorate. I wouldn’t ask for beautiful.)
Dropping her pack by the door, Aila looks around the room. Her room… She’s never had a room of her own, the clan lived in tents or rough shelters. She’s not going to go mad decorating, she’s not Lucius, but… feeling strangely daring, she hangs her tartan on the wall.Swallows and Amazons (The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,)
Dot looks out of her tent, woken by the blazing summer sun. She knows the others think it very tame to be camping in the garden, but this is her first time waking in a tent! So she takes a minute to enjoy it, stories already weaving in her head.