CHAOS THREAD. DRABBLE TIME!!!

[silverwolfcc]

Here's how it works:

I give a prompt, people reply with drabbles filling the prompt and then prompt someone new at the end.

I'll probably write One Piece, but you can ask for other fandoms/things just realize they might be harder to fill. If you ask for RP-centric ones that I know I'll try to fill those easier than fandom ;) THIS CAN BE SHOWN TO ANYONE AND LINKED ALL OVER AND HAVE OTHERS JOIN IN.

SO. Keep that in mind and if you're gonna write anything over PG-13, mark it up top \o/ That way I know what to read j/k or am I


First Prompt:
Cold rain

Comments

[silverwolfcc]

The Whitebeard pirates will take bets on anything. From how long it'll take the new kid to smile at their jokes, to how fast Izou can run in those damn heels. The Whitebeard pirates will takes bets on just about anything and this is fact. From how fast it would take to kill someone who'd wronged them, to how long a new rookie would last in the New World before the ocean showed them why only one man made it to the end.

Vista would make their betting pools official if it needed, and Namur would help stash the berri where no one else could reach it. They had a system, they had it down to an art, with everyone learning a little more each and every time.

The only person banned from them was Marco.

Without fail he always found a way to cheat. No one knew how he did it, and it certainly wasn't uncanny predictions. Some of the ways he cheated were exceedingly obvious, he didn't even bother to hide it! Just skewed the results however he wanted and then smirked as he told them all to pay up.

He wasn't allowed to be anymore, but they still made a lot of bets on him. Especially since even if he did find out they were betting on him, it was fun to see if he would purposely pretend to play favorites. He never did though, just tried to do something none of them could predict. So they all started betting on that, and those got more and more ridiculous.


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Prompt: [Shakespeare] in the Park // (can be Shakespeare or something made up for OP world :P Anything with plays outdoors)

[toujoursfluer]

"Alas, poor Yorik. You died of a brain tumor," Robin murmured to herself, looking through the magnifying glass to see the tell-tale marks in the bone. It was not news. Olds. There was nothing more to be discovered about this otherwise nameless skull, found some years ago in a swamp outside New Orleans. Other than his 17th century date, he was just another dead man who no one could remember. She placed the skull carefully in its drawer, closing it with a well oiled finality, then placed her hands on her hips and looked around the archives. So much history here, locked between the shelves. So much buried. Forgotten. Unknowable... It had been her dream. It still was. To know...everything. And yet... She felt she should feel something more than just a vague sentiment.

She folded her glasses and set them aside, rubbing her sleep stung eyes and listened to the silence. The pressing silence of a hundred still hearts. Whispered rasping stories that defied perception. It was so still, she could hear him coming in quick measured steps as he came down the stairs. Hurrying now...and then, a more stately walk. She couldn't help but smile a little.

There was a knock on the door, all measures of polite.

"Come in," she said, pulling on her coat and flipping her hair over it. Then she pulled on her black gloves, smile widening a fraction as the door opened and he stood there, impossibly English, impossibly tall and bone thin. If he turned sideways she was sure he'd wink out of existence.

"Good evening, madame," he said with a flourishing bow. "May I see your panties?"

"Only if I can blind you after," Robin said, turning off the light. Backlit only by the light from the hall, Mr. Brook, all in black, looked faintly skeletal himself. A premonition.

"It's a tempting offer, Miss Robin. But sadly, without my eyes, I won't be able to see this night's production." He moved away so she could lock the door behind them and then held out his arm. She took it, feeling like a lady out of one of those silly period pieces where romance was always just on the horizon if the coquettish young ladies could only look over their fans.

"And what is the production tonight?" she asked as they made their way up the stairs.

"I believe it's a rendition of Much Ado About Nothing."

"Does it have death, meyhem and rioting in the streets?"

"Nothing so grave as that. It's somewhat a romantic comedy," he said as they emerged into the chilly September air. Robin wrapped her arm more securely around Mr. Brook's thin arm for both their comforts. She hoped the actor's costumes were well insulated or there would be very much to be ado about as they quietly froze to death.

"Pity." She had never been one for those. Who needed romance when there--was something else. Some sense of glorious purpose waiting--though she hadn't been able to figure out yet what it was.

"Mr. Brook," she said as they went into the parking garage, the sound of their footsteps echoing. "Do you ever get the feeling you're waiting for something?"

"Yes, Miss Robin. Sometimes I can be doing nothing much at all, hanging a dress, playing a tune and then I think--there is something missing. The only time it doesn't trouble me is when I'm sleeping. "

"But in such sleep...what dreams may come?" she said with a smile. He chuckled.

"Indeed, Miss Robin. Indeed."

Prompt:
Revenge