Cambridge Fellows drabbles
Nov. 6th, 2009 10:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
charlie_cochraneIs it possible to fanfic oneself? At my other LJ I'm doing a meme involving requests for drabbles/ficlets; I've produced two, so far, for Jonty and Orlando
Prompt: a new recipe.
“Midges, midges and more bloody midges. If anyone asks me my opinion of Scotland that’s what I’ll tell them. The place is infested.” Orlando Coppersmith sat down on a rock, immediately jumping up as if stung by one of the little wretches and looked exceedingly put out.
“My old nanny used to say that if you smeared yourself with…”
“Your old nanny can go and boil her head.”
“Language, Orlando!” Richard Stewart came stomping up the small hill to join his son and what-might-be-termed-his-son-in-law among the bee-loud heather.
“I think I’ve been stung by something – feels worse than a midge this time.” Orlando’s backside felt very sore and he had the horrible feeling he’d sat on one of the bees.
“Better take you down to the lodge and get Mama to have a look at it.” Jonty had made the remark to provoke a reaction. He got it.
“I am not letting your mother, that sainted woman, take a look at my nether regions. If you’re so concerned you can sort it out yourself.”
“That’s the spirit,” Richard beamed. “Our boys were always getting stung – not Lavinia, mind you, she was too clever – and we’re all geared up for it in the medicine cabinet. A pair of tweezers to take out the sting if needed and some boracic solution to ease the pain.”
“There’s no other cure?” Orlando winced.
“There’s a new recipe I heard of, one of Dr. Panesar’s patent solutions.” The repressed smile on Jonty’s face should have warned them all. It didn’t.
“It can’t be worse than tweezers. Can you elaborate?” Orlando winced again.
“It’s like the hair of the dog that bit you. It’s the honey of the bee which stung. You smear it on - the best heather honey, mind you, nothing else works - and cover it with a poultice made of Irish linen. The linen has to be moistened with water from a silver bowl, drawn from a well at midnight. By the light of the full moon.” Jonty could barely keep a straight face.
"Does Dr. Panesar have a recipe for idiocy as well?" Orlando swiped at his lover. "I'll take a bloody bucketful."
Prompt: Bonfire Night.
The green behind St. Bride’s was swarming with people. Dunderheads, dons, porters and their families - right up to the Vice Chancellor himself, guest of Dr. Peters and his sister. No other college could celebrate Bonfire Night the way St. Bride’s did – an impressive array of fireworks was awaiting ignition and a huge bonfire was already alight.
The flames licked the feet of the effigy which sat atop the edifice. It was supposedly Guido Fawkes himself, although in recent times the ‘guy’ had borne a striking resemblance to Dr. Owens, from the college next door, arch-enemy of Bride’s and attempted besmircher of Miss Peters’ honour.
A chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ broke out around Jonty and Orlando as the first of the rockets took to the air. Vivid reds and greens split the night sky, showers of stars and sparks bursting overhead. By the time the final little Catherine wheel had whizzed its last they were deafened, blinded and had lungs full of smoke, all of which were worth it.
“Remember, remember, the fifth of November,” a group of dunderheads started to chant as they wandered back to college.
“Do you remember the fifteenth of November?” Jonty’s breath was hot on Orlando’s neck, the crowds giving them every excuse to be close.
“I do. It’s the day you stole my chair.” Orlando let a knot of undergraduates pass them, dropping back through the throng by stages until they were almost alone.
Jonty laid his hand briefly on is lover’s arm. “The day you stole my heart.”
Prompt: a new recipe.
“Midges, midges and more bloody midges. If anyone asks me my opinion of Scotland that’s what I’ll tell them. The place is infested.” Orlando Coppersmith sat down on a rock, immediately jumping up as if stung by one of the little wretches and looked exceedingly put out.
“My old nanny used to say that if you smeared yourself with…”
“Your old nanny can go and boil her head.”
“Language, Orlando!” Richard Stewart came stomping up the small hill to join his son and what-might-be-termed-his-son-in-law among the bee-loud heather.
“I think I’ve been stung by something – feels worse than a midge this time.” Orlando’s backside felt very sore and he had the horrible feeling he’d sat on one of the bees.
“Better take you down to the lodge and get Mama to have a look at it.” Jonty had made the remark to provoke a reaction. He got it.
“I am not letting your mother, that sainted woman, take a look at my nether regions. If you’re so concerned you can sort it out yourself.”
“That’s the spirit,” Richard beamed. “Our boys were always getting stung – not Lavinia, mind you, she was too clever – and we’re all geared up for it in the medicine cabinet. A pair of tweezers to take out the sting if needed and some boracic solution to ease the pain.”
“There’s no other cure?” Orlando winced.
“There’s a new recipe I heard of, one of Dr. Panesar’s patent solutions.” The repressed smile on Jonty’s face should have warned them all. It didn’t.
“It can’t be worse than tweezers. Can you elaborate?” Orlando winced again.
“It’s like the hair of the dog that bit you. It’s the honey of the bee which stung. You smear it on - the best heather honey, mind you, nothing else works - and cover it with a poultice made of Irish linen. The linen has to be moistened with water from a silver bowl, drawn from a well at midnight. By the light of the full moon.” Jonty could barely keep a straight face.
"Does Dr. Panesar have a recipe for idiocy as well?" Orlando swiped at his lover. "I'll take a bloody bucketful."
Prompt: Bonfire Night.
The green behind St. Bride’s was swarming with people. Dunderheads, dons, porters and their families - right up to the Vice Chancellor himself, guest of Dr. Peters and his sister. No other college could celebrate Bonfire Night the way St. Bride’s did – an impressive array of fireworks was awaiting ignition and a huge bonfire was already alight.
The flames licked the feet of the effigy which sat atop the edifice. It was supposedly Guido Fawkes himself, although in recent times the ‘guy’ had borne a striking resemblance to Dr. Owens, from the college next door, arch-enemy of Bride’s and attempted besmircher of Miss Peters’ honour.
A chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ broke out around Jonty and Orlando as the first of the rockets took to the air. Vivid reds and greens split the night sky, showers of stars and sparks bursting overhead. By the time the final little Catherine wheel had whizzed its last they were deafened, blinded and had lungs full of smoke, all of which were worth it.
“Remember, remember, the fifth of November,” a group of dunderheads started to chant as they wandered back to college.
“Do you remember the fifteenth of November?” Jonty’s breath was hot on Orlando’s neck, the crowds giving them every excuse to be close.
“I do. It’s the day you stole my chair.” Orlando let a knot of undergraduates pass them, dropping back through the throng by stages until they were almost alone.
Jonty laid his hand briefly on is lover’s arm. “The day you stole my heart.”
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-06 11:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-06 11:22 am (UTC)I do have at least one more request left over from that meme for the Cambridge lads.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-06 04:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-06 07:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-06 06:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-06 07:32 pm (UTC)Outtakes
Date: 2009-11-07 02:34 am (UTC)Re: Outtakes
Date: 2009-11-07 11:24 am (UTC)*mwah* on all counts.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-07 04:26 am (UTC)Darbble 1 - Hee! :D
Drabble 2 - D'awwww. Happy Anniversay fellas. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-07 11:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-08 05:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-08 01:00 pm (UTC)It's all going on in my other journal. If you want to access it I'll have to friend you and send you the link. Send my a message and I'll oblige.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-08 06:35 pm (UTC)