Here's a couple of fanfiction idea scenelets I had to get down in words (and out of my twisted brain).
First: a Harry Potter AU scenelet:
Harry opened his trunk; inside, Ron saw packed amongst the clothes a number of odd items. In one corner, tiny gears and metal tines sat amongst what looked like wooden pieces of a three-dimensional puzzle. In another, a leather glove with long blades mounted at the end of the fingers rested on a white mask from some muggle sport, the one played on ice skates. He watched as his decidedly odd friend dug out a large, reflective metal sphere.
"I've been working on this since after the first Quiddich match. The bludgers reminded me of something from some movies, you see." Ron didn't see, but he nodded anyway. "So, I went to the library and found a book on the spells used to make Quiddich equipment, and with a few modifications, I've made this." He held up the sphere.
"But what is it?"
Here, Harry gave one of those small, disturbing smiles of his. He gestured with his free hand, and the sphere rose up, levitating itself into the air. Ron jumped back as the orb sprouted a pair of wicked blades, each with two prongs, and a nasty-looking spinning drill. The sphere began to dart about, like a hawk trying to catch a glimpse of prey. "I call it a Sentinel."
What if Harry Potter went to Hogwarts a fan of horror movies? I can see this Harry referring to Draco as a "reject from the Village of the Damned," and bonding with Hagrid over 'unusual' creatures.
The second is a Naruto fic, set generations later, inspired by a song:
Ruushii ran with all her speed, driven by desparate hope. Hope that it wasn't true; hope that she wouldn't be to late if it was; hope that she could stop her closest friend, her sister in all but blood, from betraying the village they both served. Her long black hair, somewhat impractical for a kunoichi, streamed behind her as she wove between the trees of the forest.
Ahead was the clearing where she and Namiko had played as children and sparred as teammates. And Namiko was there, waiting for her.
"Namiko, you're here! Hiroshi-sensei said you'd stolen the Rokudaime's Scroll of Secrets and were fleeing Konoha, but" Ruushii trailed off as she saw the large scroll case Namiko was holding. The expression on the face of her friend told her that their teacher was not mistaken. She could only voice one question from amongst the tumult of emotion swirling through her mind. "Why?"
"'Why?,' Ruushii? Because this place, these people, are weak! I want strength, real strength, and this," she shook the scroll, "will give it to me. The Rokudaime was a legend; the great nations still speak of his power. But I won't be able to study this, to gain that strength, if I remain in Konoha." Namiko paused, looking deeply into her friend's eyes. "You could come with me. We could become great together!"
"And betray our home, our families, our friends? The strength of Konoha shinobi has always been our teamwork, our loyalty to one another!"
"Oh, please. We've never gotten anywhere with that attitude. And you of all people should understand, considering your family"
Here a new emotion boiled to the surface: anger. "Do not bring the history of my clan into this! I am not my great-grandfather, to flee the village for a promise of power; nor his brother; nor any other like them!" Her features softened a bit, as did her tone. "I'm your friend; at least, I hope I still am. But you're making a terrible mistake. I won't let you do this!"
"You won't?! Are you going to try to stop me?"
Ruushii's features hardened again, and she assumed a more ready stance. "If I have to, I will. I imagine Hiroshi-sensei and the ANBU will be along soon; I just need to keep you here."
"So that's how it is. I don't want to have to go through you, Ruushii, but believe me, I will."
"I don't want to do this either, but you're not leaving!" With that, Ruushii drew a kunai, and activated her bloodline. Namiko charged, and Ruushii met her.
The battle was swift, and closely matched. Each knew the other's moves and expressions so well that they could read and predict each other's motions almost perfectly. Ruushii's active bloodline was almost unnecessary as the two clashed; blocking and parrying each other's blows, countering moves before they were even completed. Then, the two met and one made the tiniest of errors. The other reacted along training and instinct. Blood spurted and sprayed.
Namiko coughed, gurgled, tried to speak; her hand reached feebly toward the kunai embedded in the front of her neck, and then she collapsed. The haze of adrenalin clearing, Ruushii looked with horror at her friend. She bent down, her mind racing for a way to undo this, a way to save the fading life of one she'd known so well, for so long. But she was not a medic-nin; especially not the sort of genius it would take to heal a wound like that. Swiftly, far too swiftly, Namiko died.
Ruushii stared at the body. The realization was setting in. Her best friend was dead. She had killed her.
And as the three tomoe in her eyes changed tosomething else, Uchiha Ruushii screamed.
--The Twisted One"If you wish to converse with me, define your terms."
--Voltaire
"If you
wish to converse with me, define your
terms."
--Voltaire
First: a Harry Potter AU scenelet:
Harry opened his trunk; inside, Ron saw packed amongst the clothes a number of odd items. In one corner, tiny gears and metal tines sat amongst what looked like wooden pieces of a three-dimensional puzzle. In another, a leather glove with long blades mounted at the end of the fingers rested on a white mask from some muggle sport, the one played on ice skates. He watched as his decidedly odd friend dug out a large, reflective metal sphere.
"I've been working on this since after the first Quiddich match. The bludgers reminded me of something from some movies, you see." Ron didn't see, but he nodded anyway. "So, I went to the library and found a book on the spells used to make Quiddich equipment, and with a few modifications, I've made this." He held up the sphere.
"But what is it?"
Here, Harry gave one of those small, disturbing smiles of his. He gestured with his free hand, and the sphere rose up, levitating itself into the air. Ron jumped back as the orb sprouted a pair of wicked blades, each with two prongs, and a nasty-looking spinning drill. The sphere began to dart about, like a hawk trying to catch a glimpse of prey. "I call it a Sentinel."
What if Harry Potter went to Hogwarts a fan of horror movies? I can see this Harry referring to Draco as a "reject from the Village of the Damned," and bonding with Hagrid over 'unusual' creatures.
The second is a Naruto fic, set generations later, inspired by a song:
Ruushii ran with all her speed, driven by desparate hope. Hope that it wasn't true; hope that she wouldn't be to late if it was; hope that she could stop her closest friend, her sister in all but blood, from betraying the village they both served. Her long black hair, somewhat impractical for a kunoichi, streamed behind her as she wove between the trees of the forest.
Ahead was the clearing where she and Namiko had played as children and sparred as teammates. And Namiko was there, waiting for her.
"Namiko, you're here! Hiroshi-sensei said you'd stolen the Rokudaime's Scroll of Secrets and were fleeing Konoha, but" Ruushii trailed off as she saw the large scroll case Namiko was holding. The expression on the face of her friend told her that their teacher was not mistaken. She could only voice one question from amongst the tumult of emotion swirling through her mind. "Why?"
"'Why?,' Ruushii? Because this place, these people, are weak! I want strength, real strength, and this," she shook the scroll, "will give it to me. The Rokudaime was a legend; the great nations still speak of his power. But I won't be able to study this, to gain that strength, if I remain in Konoha." Namiko paused, looking deeply into her friend's eyes. "You could come with me. We could become great together!"
"And betray our home, our families, our friends? The strength of Konoha shinobi has always been our teamwork, our loyalty to one another!"
"Oh, please. We've never gotten anywhere with that attitude. And you of all people should understand, considering your family"
Here a new emotion boiled to the surface: anger. "Do not bring the history of my clan into this! I am not my great-grandfather, to flee the village for a promise of power; nor his brother; nor any other like them!" Her features softened a bit, as did her tone. "I'm your friend; at least, I hope I still am. But you're making a terrible mistake. I won't let you do this!"
"You won't?! Are you going to try to stop me?"
Ruushii's features hardened again, and she assumed a more ready stance. "If I have to, I will. I imagine Hiroshi-sensei and the ANBU will be along soon; I just need to keep you here."
"So that's how it is. I don't want to have to go through you, Ruushii, but believe me, I will."
"I don't want to do this either, but you're not leaving!" With that, Ruushii drew a kunai, and activated her bloodline. Namiko charged, and Ruushii met her.
The battle was swift, and closely matched. Each knew the other's moves and expressions so well that they could read and predict each other's motions almost perfectly. Ruushii's active bloodline was almost unnecessary as the two clashed; blocking and parrying each other's blows, countering moves before they were even completed. Then, the two met and one made the tiniest of errors. The other reacted along training and instinct. Blood spurted and sprayed.
Namiko coughed, gurgled, tried to speak; her hand reached feebly toward the kunai embedded in the front of her neck, and then she collapsed. The haze of adrenalin clearing, Ruushii looked with horror at her friend. She bent down, her mind racing for a way to undo this, a way to save the fading life of one she'd known so well, for so long. But she was not a medic-nin; especially not the sort of genius it would take to heal a wound like that. Swiftly, far too swiftly, Namiko died.
Ruushii stared at the body. The realization was setting in. Her best friend was dead. She had killed her.
And as the three tomoe in her eyes changed tosomething else, Uchiha Ruushii screamed.
--The Twisted One"If you wish to converse with me, define your terms."
--Voltaire
"If you
wish to converse with me, define your
terms."
--Voltaire