Weirdlet

Jet/Zura.

From:

(specify your #8 AU?)

From:

Their SPAWN.

From:

1. Wild West-

The widow-woman goes to church every Sunday, the picture of hard-bitten virtue earned just as much as any respectable wife in this dusty town. She’s real careful to keep it that way- refusing to so much as glance at a disreputable ranch-hand who gambles too much and wins too often for how raggy he keeps himself.

The only rumors that swirl around her is that maybe she got herself half-scalped by some rogue Water-tribe, but Jet thinks he knows better.

2. Cyberpunk-

He can’t believe he took that mark as the sign of a fighter, someone who’d woken once and fought to keep from surrendering into placid, cowardly sleep again. He can’t believe he took a spoiled socialite for a true wakened dreamer- or he can, but he wishes he hadn’t. Should’ve seen the signs, the brand logos on the jacks, even slumming it like she was in the broke-down reaches of the lowest bubble-towns, pretty gold pod all stripped and dented when it got covertly placed there.

Now she’s sold them all out for the chance at finding a needle in a haystack, one pod among thousands holding a kid that probably isn’t even genetically hers. Fucking madwoman thinks it’s all real.

Jet guns the motor of his speeder, shivering at the feel of real atmo screaming past real skin, and wishes he could set a sweep for that little niggling voice that cries mercy. Quarantine the fucker.

Mercy never freed brain-slaves. Mercy only exacerbated the problem. Mercy only ever got you killed.

But there it sits, flashing its little warning light, beeping forlornly- even as his overclocked senses override it in the wash of adrenaline and speed.

3. Furries-

She doesn’t sing, she doesn’t dance, and she has no time for a lanky, scruffy tom who hasn’t even presented himself to the gathering yet (either). At the edge of the junkyard, the ginger queen keeps to herself and glances constantly to the side, where she thinks her kit remains cunningly concealed. Jet washes his face, and thinks of where he’s hidden a nice bit of fish-paste that might do to tease her out, get her to sing a few notes of her song his way.

He’s not big and buff and blonde, but he can keep a queen happy enough- and blustery Tugger gets quite enough tail already.

When Macavity appears and blocks out the moon, she’s the first to clamp jaws around her kit’s head and leap off with it in tow, and things get too busy in the ensuing fight to really keep track of where she’s gone.

From:

That cyberpunk drabble really excites and mystifies me: What Zura actually is? And Lan Min?

That furries part make me go a bit aww and the wild west is awesome. Who was she married to? Zhao?

From:

Oooh, T. S. Elliot! Jet/Jura!

The cyberpunk captures Jet'sblack and white crazy so perfectly. I hope you post more soon.

From:

Ooh... I particularly liked this old-west drabble! Widows and the importance of virtue, "disreputable ranch-hand"!Jet, and a false rumour of scalping. Nice.

And as attackfish said, the Cyberpunk one was very good at portraying Jet and his craziness. I'm intrigued by the world you wrote - we just get a hint of what's going on.

Also, mama!cat!Zura! :D I love the image of her just picking up her kit and leaving for somewhere safe. :)

From:

Curses! I was totally going to request that!

From:

And by "that" I mean attackfish's Jet/Zura request. :P

From:

4. Pirates-

The Freedom Fighter is once again triumphant, and Captain Jet strides the deck on red-slicked soles with nary a slip. They’re bringing up the prisoners from below and- hello, is that a noble of the Fire Nation…? Soft gown, gold trim, slippers on instead of boots- he’d wager it is.

She’s fighting hard and baring her teeth around a tight cloth gag, even after Pipsqueak gives her a tap on the back of the head- chivalry be damned, Fire-women are dangerous- and Jet lets her stew as he walks up and down the line of battered, beaten sailors.

“Where’s your captain?” he asks with a smile, and no one answers. He’s about to make a further point when Sneers comes up from the depths with a bundle in his arms and a nasty grin on his face.

“Hey boss- I found their treasure! Oh, and some loot and munitions, too…”

The bundle wiggles- and wails.

Their pretty noble prisoner goes rigid- and the gag disappears in a geyser of flames.

From:

Oh Jet, You and your crew have no idea what they're in for. And a little piece of me's going "Where's Lan Min!"

From:

Screwed. They are screwed. Is this in AtLA verse or some kind of historical AU?

From:

Call it a historical AU of AtLA- instead of banditry in the forests, Jet's committing piracy on the high seas, and Zura's traveling more like a noble than an exiled warrior.

From:

I loved this! :3 Jet is so JET ("chivalry be damned, Fire-women are dangerous") and I do so love protective!mamabear!Zura. :3

From:

5. …in SPACE!!-

“The Ba Sing Se ain’t no place for a baby.” The captain turns, that battered brown coat showing its scars more than its wearer, and Zura is about ready to heave the man against the side of his own ship by the lapels.

“I’m not looking to live here, I just want passage-!”

Uncle steps around and manages to appeal to the younger man as a veteran- he doesn’t mention which side- and by nightfall they’re stowed safely away in a too-small bunk. The captain declines to give them the tour, leaving that to a small woman with suspicious eyes and a lazy air of danger that didn’t come from any respectable academy Zura has ever heard of. Her husband, the pilot, just gives them a nod behind his hat, although he smiles at Lan Min when she waves from her mother’s arms.

Things are quiet until they’re halfway out between the moons, and then the smuggling run they're apparently on goes sour. Zura doesn’t want to stick out, but if it comes down to being boarded by the Alliance she’s screwed too, so she picks a nice pair of guns out of the heap and prepares to repel.

It isn’t until the fireworks die down that she catches the captain eyeing her speculatively- and it isn’t until the next port and several entirely unnecessary shootouts later that she caves and takes equal shares.

From:

Oh my God, Lan Min is going to grow up with smugglers! Think of the children!

In other news, I love Iroh playing the veteran to Jet. Gives me a warm fuzzy spot of sheer hilarity.

From:

"What do you know about kids?"

"I can keep them safe," Jet lies, like breathing. What she can do, is keep them moving, keep them going, even when the food is bad and the winter's long and the weak-

Well, the weak don't last long. Or the sick. Or the small.

But this is Ba Sing Se, and Lin is the sturdiest kid she's ever seen, and Li's let Jin babysit every day this week. Jet picks and prods, and finally she's settled in with a hand for a shadow-puppet and an armful of happy toddler.

This is Ba Sing Se, and she will see to it that this city is kept safe, for those she cares about.

From:

Oh man, gah!

From:

Zuka. Well, I am easy and predictable. Hope this is okay!

From:

Please pick you #8 AU ^^

From:

Blargh. I am stupid. Avatar. (you know, Pandora and so on. ^^)

From:

And I mean by Zuka that Zuka from Jetko meme. ^^'

From:

Don't worry, I gotcha^^)

From:

1. Wild West-

It’s a reputable boarding house and a good place to wait for your train to come through, especially for citified folks who don’t like to be reminded just how far from civilization they are, even as they prepare to step on board and get back to it. He catches sight of her on the stair, and it’s a shame about the fine windows and woodwork in here, ‘cause they’re not gonna last much longer.

Her face goes from green to white as she sweeps around, crinolines rustling.

“I thought you were-“

“Dead?” he says easily, smiling like a rattler behind the brim of his hat. Red satin and feathers or dusty leather and twill, a whore is a whore when she stakes a man out for the buzzards. Or leaves him with a room bill, a missing packet of deeds, and a sheriff banging on the door intent on stretching somebody’s neck, as the case may be.

That somebody being him, he can still feel the rope-burns from where his much-larger debts almost caught up with him on the gibbet.

“Not hardly. But you may want to rectify that, if you don’t wanna see what happens to thievin’ traitor sharpster girls who come down from the big city lookin’ to steal what ain’t theirs…” He waits for her to go for the pistol in her traveling-bag or the hatpins in her hair (and how she grew it out so fast he’ll never know, maybe those are horse-hair curls tumbling down)-

Instead she pulls the one maneuver he doesn’t anticipate and faints into his arms, leaving him stumbling back down the stairs as every man in the place looks up and a door swings open in the hall above. An old man in a waistcoat and bowler steps out, prodigious beard leading the way.

“Hurry up, my niece, we must be on time for- Zuka…?” Jet struggles desperately against the dead weight of the girl who hung him out to dry, and only succeeds in getting tangled worse. The old man’s expression goes dark and dangerous, and Jet starts looking for escape routes even as he can feel the noose slipping closer around his neck once more.

“What ARE you DOING with my NIECE?!”

From:

What does sharpster mean?

Is Zuka really a whore in this verse or just acted as one? Because that thought is kinda little hot...

Furious Iroh coming, run boy, run!

From:

Sharpster- a trickster or con-artist. And it's more a matter of Jet taking her for a whore, thinking that their fooling around was part of her tricking him for her own benefit.

From:

...I am dying to know the backstory in this.

From:

EPIC. <3 I really like the inclusion of the mention of dangerous hatpins, and fast-growing hair (they really did use horsehair hair extensions! ... or at least I think that they did!)

I LOVED this line: "Instead she pulls the one maneuver he doesn’t anticipate and faints into his arms." XD And I have to wonder if it was deliberate or if it was simply convenient... but either way, I love the idea of Iroh in a bowler hat and waistcoat, and protective!Iroh is awesome in any universe. :3

From:

(it... got epic.)

8. Pick your poison- Cameron!Avatar!

The blurry outline of a lean, blue warrior looks back at him from the dark glass. He can almost imagine the elegant braids and clean-shaven sides of a grown man’s head, the warpaint of a true member of the tribe.

Too bad the scattered bands haven’t had anything like a guide to the proper ways of the People in a very long time. Too bad the true People argue amongst themselves about the true Way, and in the meanwhile those who’ve lost who they were but haven’t yet been obliterated struggle along as best they can. One hundred years after Jakesooli started a war he couldn’t finish, Jhet likes to think a proper tribe would take him and his fellow warriors in, having won many victories against the Sky People and proven their valor- but some have looked at his scrounged armor and weapons, his half-length queue and shuddered at the mutilation of what should be. Others (he grinds his teeth and wishes he could join with them, make them see) others talk of peace and trade and protecting what they can and he knows them to be traitors, who don’t deserve the sacrifice of his better nature even as he gives his all to protect them from themselves. Even the new Turok Makto, young as he was-

But enough of that- Eywa’s breath blows swift and cool, and he knows the metal eyes will be sweeping this way soon. A moment’s thought and he’s gone, the thick jungle that grows right up to the foot of the compound enfolding him as he spirits through the night.

The alarms haven’t rung out yet- but that’s about to change.

The Sky People have tribes themselves, different clans who rule different colonies. Their spread is unchecked by anything but their own whims, and different clans use different methods to tame their own patch of jungle. The only reason he can get so close to Ahg-nee-corp’s walls is because his injured queue leaves him invulnerable to the subsonics that protect their compound from any sort of large assault. The air is dead here, all the living things scared away by the vicious jangle on the edge of their nerves.

He just gets a headache at the back of his teeth, and grits them as he moves in on his target.

The medical wing of the compound is large and dark and quiet. Ahg-nee-corp soldiers are the fastest and the fiercest and the most well-equipped, and that is why they’ve almost covered the world as Jhet knows it, and why their healers are not very busy at this time of night.

Ahg-nee is also the most devious of the Sky tribes, awakening the old stories of the dreamwalkers and making them live again. Demons in false bodies, walking the surface of the world, seeing with false eyes and digging out secrets, spreading lies and disease.

stealing hearts

Well, after tonight, they will never be able to do that again.

He finds the window, knows the way from careful counting, the pattern described to him by his warriors who took it from a walking dreamer, his false body falling into their hands. They’d made him talk before his spirit escaped, and made sure he could never retake his flesh again.

Focus.

It doesn’t take a great effort- the glass pops out with some digging, air-pressure working for him and not against as he leaps in before the jets can start filling the breach with masses of sticky foam.

…

From:

The medical wing is quiet and dark. Only one of the amnio-tanks is occupied, lit softly from within as its occupant twitches in dreamless sleep. Across the glass, a lone figure stands watching, wire-limned fingers outstretched as they tap the surface. There’s hardly a squeak as she does- this is cutting-edge exosuit technology, quiet and strong and sleek.

Nothing but the best for Daddy’s girl.

AgniCorp’s stocks are sky-high and climbing, since the fall of the rumored native Messiah, the Toruk Makto, and fine grey dust fuels a grateful world. She’s walking on her own for the first time since the accident- the fingers splayed against the glass are still numb in their servo’ed cage, but they’ll come back to life in time. Her whole left side is slowly, slowly wakening. She’s earned a new chance at life.

All she had to sell was her soul to get it.

‘Zuka’ sleeps on in her living cryo-chamber, continuing the two-year dream that has been her life. It’s a mask she doesn’t need anymore, they’ve said.

The cub can be studied.

No one says anything, of course- speak ill of the hero that saved her family’s empire, sacrificed years of her life in order to sustain a desperate market? She did what she had to do.

She’s redeemed herself.

Just a little while longer. I’ve almost got enough exopack canisters stashed away, and I know I can get one of those abandoned stations working again-

An alarm shrieks, tearing her out of treasonous plans and pulling her back into the world of the living.

Except he’s dead, Jhet’s dead like the Turok Makto might not be and he’s rushing past the hallway and skidding to a stop with that same knife-hacked haircut and battered rifle and computer-guts trailing from his claws-

They stay frozen in that tableau for a lifetime, a heartbeat. Jhet’s lover has two faces, and they are side by side- and neither is whole. (another one damaged in this endless war, Na’vi but not People, a good match for half a man who can only love, not bond) Zuka’s lover has one face, but hides many things behind it. (a man who can’t See what he’s told is there, but believes in it so hard he’ll kill or die for it)

She doesn’t know what he’ll say, but the sound of glass breaking from the hallway turns him around, just enough. The tasers fire from the palm of her exosuit, and she knows that once again, things have just gotten a hundred times more complex than she wanted them to be.

From:

Frigging awesome. Zuka is right now in her human body and the Navi is in the amnio-tank.

All of thesed make me beg for continuing and some backstory, explanation something. I curse you. ;D

From:

(how do you think *I* feel, this thing marching in and taking over my brain? ;p I'll work on this one some more later- gotta get something done on everyone's)

From:

Ooh... I really like this! Jhet with a cut queue... the Na'vi spellings... the subsonic waves that don't affect Jhet... the brief mentions of a Toruk Makto that I assume is Aang? I also like what little we hear of Zura's own background. :3 I'm intrigued by the technology, and how the two must have met... I would LOVE to see more!

From:

beckyh2112.livejournal.com

Zhao.

#8: superheroes

From:

As for an actual request... Hmm...

How about Iroh? And would "Firelord" be an okay prompt for #8? Also, feel free to throw in Zuko alongside his uncle wherever you wish. :)

From:

akitotsubaki.livejournal.com

Am currently in the process of reading through practically everything you've written, and squeebled really hard when I saw a current meme I could glom onto. >3< (And may gank from you at a later date...)

Is Jetko too boring and unoriginal? Because I adore the way you write Jetko. Number eight would be...let's see, how about rock stars?

*goes back to reading Jetko meme*

From:

amentje.livejournal.com

wow, I'm actualy in time for one of these

how about the freedom fighters

and for 8 discworld

From:

spyridona.livejournal.com

Ursa! #8 can be 'soap opera'.

From: