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Fic Battle Entry - FIRE AWAY

apartment303, ayadec, bottecellie, brittaforthewin, butterbadger, _carly_, colonialburn, crittab, curlydots, firthgal, fluffyfrolicker, hematitebadger, htbthomas, krilymcc, lextersdab, malo_malo, ogwriter, palgrave_golden, piesek, rosepetal9, rowboatcop, supercapo, telm_393, virtual_toast

The first shot has been fired - the Fic Battle will now begin! Full rules and guidelines here (please note the sign-up addition and the last prompt deadline edit), but the quick version is here:

1) Author A replies to this entry with their writing preferences (from here) to start their thread. Minor changes are allowed to preferences, if needed.
2) Prompter 1 replies to Author A's thread with a prompt
3) Author A fills said prompt with at least 300 words of fic and posts it in a reply to Prompter 1's comment.
4) Author A moves on to Prompter 2.
5) Prompter 1 may now give Author A another prompt if they so choose, continuing on until prompts close on Thursday, June 21st at 10am EST (7am PST).
6) Authors have until Thursday, June 21st at 12pm EST (9am PST) to post their fills.

The author with the MOST fills will be the Winner! Any author who fills EVERY prompt they receive will be a Survivor!

A few additional notes:
** The length of the battle is for two reasons: A) varying free time for writing (a work-a-day writer or a weekender), and B) varying writing speeds (a tortoise or a hare).
** As the battle goes on, try to spread your prompts among the authors. If you see an author who has completed all their prompts and there's plenty of time to the end of the battle, help them out!
** No ideas for prompts? Use resources like unfilled prompts at various comment fic memes and fests (even other fandoms which could be adapted), or random story idea generators.
** Anonymous comments are screened for the duration of the battle. Please prompt logged in.

Questions? See the first comment thread below.


CEASE FIRE! The battle is now over! No fills posted past 12:00pm EST will count toward the final totals. Masterpost with winners, survivors and breakdown will go up by tomorrow at noon.

Authors may continue to fill their prompts, just for fun, if they wish! And prompters, please continue to feedback. :)


Jun. 15th, 2012 06:59 pm (UTC)
Maximum rating I will write (G - NC-17): hard R (think "sex in a movie" versus "porn")
I WILL write any of these genres: angst, fluff, AU, crossovers, smut, humor, shippy!fic, gen/friendship!fic
My preferred characters/ships are: Abed, Annie, Troy, Jeff, Britta, Professor Duncan, Troy+Abed bromance, Troy+Abed+Annie roommate hijinks, Jeff+Shirley awesomeness, Abed/Annie, Jeff/Britta, Troy/Britta
I will NOT write these topics/characters/ships: Jeff/Annie, Chang/anyone (in a romantic context), Pierce/anyone (likewise)
I WILL write crossovers in any of these fandoms: Doctor Who (and related), Sherlock, Skins (gen 1 or 3), Misfits, Venture Bros., Good Omens, Firefly, Black Books, Spaced, Star Wars, Cabin Pressure, Harry Potter, Sweeney Todd (the stage musical, not the Burton film), How I Met Your Mother
Jun. 15th, 2012 07:58 pm (UTC)
Good Omens crossover- On a trip to London (most likely to see where IS is filmed), Abed ends up in Aziraphale's bookshop.
Jun. 16th, 2012 07:40 am (UTC)
FILL: Errata (Good Omens crossover, Abed in Aziraphale's bookshop; prompted by cherrycoloured) 1/2
Buggre Alle this for a Larke. I amme sick to mye Hart of typesettinge. Master Biltonn is no Gentlemann, and Master Scagges noe more than a tighte fisted Southwarke Knobbesticke. I telle you, onne a daye laike this Ennyone with half an oz. of Sense shoulde bee oute in the Sunneshain, ane nott Stucke here alle the livelong daie inn this mowldey olde By-Our-Lady Workeshoppe. @*Ǣ@;!*

Abed blinked once, then read the verse again. Surely that couldn't be right.

He had passed by the nondescript bookshop twice before he got the chance to venture inside (the first time nothing could distract him from getting to Day One of the first ever official Inspector Spacetime convention, and the second was during the ill-fated search for Mexican food anywhere in London— there weren't any, at least as far as he and Troy could tell). It had caught his eye precisely because of how unremarkable it was, as if every brick of it had been laid, every stroke of paint had been brushed with the sole intent of saying Oh, don't mind me, keep moving along, nothing remotely interesting to see here.

It was, in short, fascinating.

Therefore, when the convention hit a comfortable lull and Troy was busy attending a panel with Devlin Fauntleroy, legendary fight choreographer and designer of Constable Reggie's zero-gravity martial arts, Abed made a point to go back and give the dusty little shop a thorough looking-over. He knew that, logically, the chances of wandering into an ancient-looking bookshop and finding a book of magic, or a kindly, somewhat eccentric mentor, or a portal to another world were quite slim, but if it were ever going to happen, London would be the city, and by the looks of it, this would be the shop.

He noticed distantly as he entered that, just as the exterior had seemingly been designed to be ignored, the interior was incessantly unpleasant and formidable, from the damp smell rising from the floorboards to the flickering lights and murky shadows obscuring most of the books on the shelves. It was scrupulously clean, and despite the gloom he could tell that all the books were in excellent condition, but the fact remained that anyone else would feel out-of place and likely make a quick exit to find more hospitable browsing elsewhere. This naturally only piqued Abed's interest.

Once actually inside, however, he found himself rather bored. Most bookstores, regardless of size, had some sort of organization, whereas everything Abed had seen so far suggested that every book in the shop was either a vaguely religious text or a boys' adventure manual. With a shrug, he had selected one off a shelf of old-looking Bibles and gently paged through it, thinking perhaps it might be an interesting translation or have illuminated pages Shirley might enjoy, or maybe some extra-awesome gory Medieval art Troy would find awesome...

Instead, he found himself trying to comprehend the page in front of him, the most blatant breaking of the Fourth Wall he had ever heard of in the history of the printed word. And in the Bible, of all things.
Jun. 15th, 2012 08:39 pm (UTC)
One of Shirley's sons goes missing. Jeff works his ass off to find him. Friendship or more, whichever you prefer. Any rating is fine.
Jun. 17th, 2012 09:36 am (UTC)
FILL: Once Was Lost (Shirley+Jeff, prompted by crittab) 1/2

“Yeah?” Jeff said into his phone, eyes not leaving the redhead sitting next to him at the bar. Up until his phone rang he'd been doing a fairly decent job of chatting her up, and he was hoping to seal the deal once he could get around to hanging up the phone.

“Jeffrey, it's Shirley, from the study group.”

“Yes, hi, what is it?” He mimed apologetically to the redhead.

“It's just... I didn't know who else to call. It's Jordan, he's— we had a fight, and he ran off, and now that was an hour ago and I don't know where he is, and he's not picking up his phone and... I'm scared, Jeffrey, I don't know what to do—”

“Shirley, calm down,” he said. “Everything's going to be all right. Have you called the police?”

“I didn't know what to say to them,” she admitted. “I was hoping you would— you were a lawyer, I thought you might know someone, have connections with the police or something.”

“Shirley, this isn't an episode of Law & Order, I don't have any cop friends. Call the police and give them a description.” He swung around on his barstool, the redhead long forgotten. “Where are you? I'm on my way.”

Logically, Jeff knew that there was little assistance he could give that the police couldn't, but he also knew that driving Shirley around the darkened streets was making her feel less helpless about the whole thing, so he continued making a meandering journey past every fast food place, arcade, and playground Jordan could have made it to (and quite a few he probably couldn't). Finally, about forty-five minutes into their drive, Shirley's phone rang.

“Hello? Jordan?” She answered frantically. Jeff watched out of the corner of his eye as she let out a sigh of relief, then hardened into some unrecognizable emotion. “I see. Thank you, I'll be there in a few minutes.” Her mouth pressed into a thin, firm line as she hung up the phone.

“Corner of Fulton and Mayhew,” she said, voice audibly shaking. “Jordan's at his father's store.”

“Fulton and Mayh— that's the other side of town,” said Jeff.

“Oh my dear Lord, my baby's been walking around all night long—”

“Shirley,” said Jeff, doing is best to make sure his voice was even and soothing. “He's safe now, right? He's just fine, and we'll be there in ten minutes. Seven, if I run a few lights.”

Andre and Jordan were standing outside Bennett Electronics when they pulled up; Jeff had no sooner put his Lexus into park than Shirley threw open the passenger-side door and wrapped her son up in her arms. Jeff got out of the car at a more sedate pace, greeting the other man with a handshake and a cool, awkward smile— the sort reserved for weirdly specific functions like 'meeting a classmate's cheating ex-husband.' To his credit, the one Andre gave back was cautious, but overall a friendly one.

“Andre,” said Shirley, wheeling on the man with righteous fury in her face. “How dare you—”

“Shirley, I swear, I didn't know he was coming,” Andre said quickly, hands up in a placating gesture. “I called you as soon as he showed up.”

“Momma, stop it!” Jordan cried out.

“Jordan, say goodbye to your father,” she replied coldly, stalking back towards Jeff's car.
Jun. 15th, 2012 08:49 pm (UTC)
Troy, Abed and Annie create (or storyboard, act out...) an animated short film.
Jun. 17th, 2012 11:51 pm (UTC)
FILL: Blorgons are Not in the Public Domain (Troy+Abed+Annie, short film; prompted by htbthomas)
“That one Christmas aside, I had never really taken the time to study animation as an artistic medium in any in-depth capacity. Also, Troy's action beats, while innovative, proved to be ultimately out of our budget for a live-action undertaking.”

“Only because Annie wouldn't let us film it in the apartment.”

“Okay, what part of 'fire hazard' didn't you get? Oh, and I looked it up, Troy, and I was right: no wire-fighting company does home apparatus installations.”

“Just because nobody's done it before doesn't mean—”

“Guys, guys!

“...Sorry, Abed.”

“Sorry, man.”

“Anyway, we decided to go with stop-motion animation to best utilize Annie's natural aptitude for continuity editing.”

“That, and none of us can draw.”

“But aside from the occasional inter-team squabbling, some budgetary mishaps—”

“Clay is expensive.”

“—and a few copyright issues—”

“I still say we should have used Blorgons anyway—”

“—we've produced a final product I think we can all be proud of.”

“Cool, so what grade did you get?”

“Oh, this wasn't for a grade.”

Jeff looked up from his phone. “Wait, what?” He stared blankly at the trio standing in front of him from the (admittedly comfortable) armchair they'd muscled him into at the start of their little story. “You haven't been telling me about some class project?”

The three looked at each other with matching grins of amused skepticism. “Jeff, what classes do you think we take?” Troy asked with a laugh.

“I mean, I am reusing the character models for an Environmental Science diorama, but that's just for efficiency's sake,” said Annie.

“...Then why am I the only one you're submitting to t... ell this story to?”

They simply exchanged giddy, secretive smiles again, before stepping aside and revealing the television behind them. Troy gently wrestled the phone out of Jeff's hand as Abed pressed play on the remote in his hand. At first, the screen remained blank, but slowly a title card faded into view:

The Continuing Adventures of Horsebot3000

“Happy birthday,” said Annie.

Edited at 2012-06-17 11:52 pm (UTC)
Jun. 15th, 2012 09:10 pm (UTC)
Misfits AU: There is a strange electrical storm and everyone at Greendale (or just the study group) obtains supernatural powers.
Jun. 19th, 2012 12:23 am (UTC)
FILL: I Don't Know What's Happened to the Kids Today (Misfits fusion; prompted by lsw700) 1/5
“Why, again, do we have to paint this house?”

“Probably because we destroyed last year's Habitat for Humanity,” remarked Troy.

“Oh, right,” said Pierce, looking mollified.

“We already paid for that cleaning up the first time,” said Shirley. “If you ask me, the only ones who should be doing this are Jeff and Britta.” The rest of the study group made noises of agreement as the two in question donned matching indignant expressions.

“They'd have to get someone in to repaint it, though,” said Annie, “or doesn't anyone else remember painting Shirley's nursery?”

“Guys?” Abed piped up, pointing upwards. “Am I the only one noticing the ominous clouds gathering?”

“That means we can go inside, right?” Troy looked eagerly from one person to the next. “We can't paint if it's rai— whaaaat?” He was interrupted as a hailstone the size of a boulder landed across the street, a mere six inches away from Jeff's Lexus. Jeff breathed a sigh of relief, and would have returned to texting had another even-larger one not crashed through the roof of the house they were to be painting.

“Six bucks says we're blamed for that!” Pierce shouted over a crack of thunder as all seven made a panicked run for shelter from the sudden downpour.

“Everybody get inside!” Troy yelled. “It can't strike the house twice!”

“Troy, that's lightning,” cried Annie, “and it's not even true!”

“Well, we have to go somewhere, before—”

Jeff's words were cut short by a bright flash of light. Time stopped for a moment as all seven students were thrown into the air with a force like a kick to the stomach. There was heat, and a thrum of energy tingling through them from fingers to feet, and then—


The storm was over seconds later, the study group strewn unceremoniously across the front lawn of yet another wrecked Habitat for Humanity. One by one, they struggled to their feet, silent except for occasional grunts of effort and soreness.

“So, we all agree,” said Jeff, “we're cutting out early and forgetting this ever happened, yeah?”

They looked at each other uneasily, then nodded in agreement.
Jun. 15th, 2012 11:58 pm (UTC)
John Watson and Britta Perry are half-siblings. It doesn't have to be their first meeting, it could just be siblings hijinks in general. (Point in canon is irrelevant.)
Jun. 19th, 2012 07:19 am (UTC)
FILL: Intermediate Genealogy and International News (Sherlock crossover; prompted by bottecellie)
“What's got you so excited about Family Day?” Jeff asked skeptically as Britta tried not to broadcast how eagerly she was searching the crowd.

“Well, one of my brothers is coming,” she replied. “We don't see each other much, and we were never really close growing up, but... it's family, you know?” She shrugged. “Plus it sounds like he's been going through a lot lately and could use a break, so when they announced the date, I figured I'd— John!” Having spotted her quarry, she waved her arms wildly to get his attention. Jeff saw a compact blond man leaning on a cane nod in recognition and head toward them.

“Britta,” he said by way of greeting, with a smile that, while genuine, didn't quite mask the sadness in his eyes. He pulled her into a one-armed hug, his other hand still clutching his cane “How've you been?”

Jeff quirked an eyebrow. “British,” he remarked.

“Half-siblings,” said Britta.

“Dad got his leg over on more than one continent,” added John benignly.

“Come on,” she said, taking John's free arm and heading into the library. “I'll introduce you to everyone.”

The study room was its normal somewhat-chaotic self, aided by the fact that nearly twice as many people as usual filled it.

“Guys,” said Britta, getting everyone's attention, “this is my brother, John.” John smiled around the room, pausing and blinking to politely conceal his confusion when he reached Abed and Troy and took in their... unorthodox clothing.

“Inspector,” he said with a nod. “Constable.”

Britta put her hand over her eyes. “I never should have told them you were English.”

“Dr. Watson,” said Abed; John's eyes widened imperceptibly at the recognition. “I read your blog.”

“Ah,” said John. “Er, thank you, I suppose.” His mouth hardened into a thin line, as if bracing himself for something. “I take it you followed the papers, then?” Britta frowned in sympathy, lacing her fingers together with his.

Abed nodded, his expression unusually subdued. “I'll always believe in him too,” he said softly.
Jun. 16th, 2012 03:13 am (UTC)
Community/Black Books

Short fic. Annie goes on a trip to the UK (let's assume that Annie somehow has enough money to do this) and wants a London travel guide. She ends up in Black Books. Bernard is smitten at first, but her cheerfulness is grating, so he ends up mocking her. When she tries to get formidable with him, he hates her even more.
Jun. 19th, 2012 11:58 am (UTC)
Overhearing Jeff and Britta have one of their little exchanges about how they might possibly sort of consider maybe having kids one day, Shirley is so horrified at the thought of them - together or apart - as parents, that she gives them a crash course in what having kids is really like.
Jun. 19th, 2012 04:32 pm (UTC)
Professor Duncan tries to get in on a study group adventure because he's bored and lonely. The study group aren't pleased.
Jun. 20th, 2012 03:03 pm (UTC)
Troy, Abed, and Annie accidentally end up watching an episode of Doctor Who when then mean to watch Inspector Spacetime.

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