Crossover Galore Challenge
Jan. 18th, 2010 11:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_qAfter such a long stretch of new fics, I think it is time to get back to the original project: the gathering of my old fics. Here is a piece I wrote for a Livejournal community called Crossover Galore Challenge. The idea was brilliant, but unfortunately the community dwindled after awhile - this can happen even for the best of communities. Have to say that this community had (or perhaps still has) the largest prompt collection of different types of crossovers I've ever seen.
This is a X-men/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover, set in Prague as mentioned in BtVS ep School Hard. I used Emma as a young, Hellfire affiliated kind of way, not really based on any particular comic.
Prague lit up like a firefly as the sun set. The heat of the end of summer still lingered over the town and the weather kept the flocks of tourists on the narrow streets. This suited the restaurant and shop owners, for the tourists were fickle: here today, gone tomorrow. Emma had only been here for a week but already she knew how to avoid the tourist infested areas. She walked away from the lights, deeper in the dark shadows.
Emma loved Prague and its grandiose architecture. Prague was an old city and it had survived much but still it carried its history with solemn dignity. Maybe in the eyes of the Czechs, she was just another foreigner but in her own mind, Emma felt connected to the city. Through her trip in Europe, courtesy of the Hellfire Club, Prague had proven to be the experience she had been waiting for. Right here, she was certain of it, was her best chance to blossom into a recognizable player.
However, she was still rather far from that goal. First, she was hardly grasping the depths of her powers, far less able to utilize them effectively. She was still plundering at times and searching for the best techniques that would suit her. Secondly, she was part of the intrigue power play inside the Hellfire Club. She was stuck with a weak hand and she was trying desperately to prop up her position. Mainly her approach involved cultivating her physical assets in the most flamboyant manner. She would dress up as a tart, a hooker, or a harlot, whichever the occasion happened to be. It was a form of power play and nothing else. The surest way to gain some advantage to do real damage was to attract people's attention. Moreover, nothing attracted attention quite like a strikingly half-naked young woman.
She had a favourite store that she visited often, and the owner knew that with Emma the money was no object. They kept something special stashed away just for her. This time it was a pale gray satin dress, exact hue of the fog hanging over the Vltava River in the mornings. It was demur - it only had a slit up to upper thigh. Emma was admiring herself from the mirror when the man walked in. She heard him and turned around to see who was speaking in such accent in the middle of the Prague.
It was rather surprising sight. He wore a worn jacket, dusty boots and his hair was even more unnatural shade of white than Emma's own was. There was something very strange about him. Not only did he seem completely out of place but also he did not seem to care. Emma watched him flash a devious smile to the shop girl and the girl just crumbled under the weight of his charm. Emma shivered. Her gut instinct screamed bloody danger.
As the shop girl went to collect arm full of dresses he had asked for, the man seemed to notice Emma for the first time. He stared at her as parched man stares a tall glass of water in a desert. Emma tried to hold her composure, but the sudden surge of lust betrayed her. The man smirked as if he knew what Emma was feeling.
"It is impolite to stare." Emma noted, turning back to look herself from the mirror. She tried to catch his reflection to read him out more, but the mirror was in wrong angle and he did not appear on the shiny surface.
"Frock like that begs some staring. American?"
"British?" Emma turned to ask, trying to look like she really did not care to continue this pointless conversation but still she could not help being curious. As the man flashed another naughty-but-endearing smile and walked a bit closer, Emma got even stronger sense that she was in immediate danger. She smiled. Danger could go in both ways. He stopped so close to her that they almost touched and Emma took a step back to maintain the distance, hitting her back against the cold mirror.
"You are long way from home, Ms. America. Got lost from your travel guide?"
"This is a women clothing store. I would say you are out of your playing field too, mate."
"Don't be so sure. I got a wicked fashion sense."
Emma pressed her back against the mirror, tilting her chin up in a cute manner that she had practiced. She smiled with wide innocence that looked almost genuine enough to believe. Even so close, Emma had hard time reading him. She felt the humanity and personal flare of him easily enough, but beyond that was something else. As she looked in his eyes, she tried to hone in that strange depth in his mind.
"You are wasting your time, Ms. America. Those baby blues don't work on this bloke." He laughed, and added "But if you want to play some more, I know a place to go."
Emma giggled, adding a dose of light-headed silliness in her voice. The girly blonde routine usually worked, but not this time. The guy just rolled his eyes, loosing his interest as suddenly as it has sparked. Emma was loosing her catch completely and she did not want to loose the light touch she had managed to form to his mind. She needed to know what the hidden thing in his mind was. She did the only maneuver she had left: the physical contact. She grabbed his jacket and pulled him to a deep kiss.
The darkness bloomed in her mind like a poisonous flower. It was exhilarating. The complete annihilation of everything that was not part of himself. It was Emma's own darkness, but magnified, purified and immensely old. She might have initiated the kiss, but he picked it up and forced it to continue.
The darkness alone was delicious, but there was something even more interesting interwoven in his mind. It appeared as web of silvery strands, knotted and looped all over his flow of thoughts. Emma had never felt anything like that before, not by any other psychic she had met. It was like a mental work of art. The man was already some girl's favourite puppet. The execution of the mental control was so delicate that Emma wondered if he even realized it was there. As she felt the strings attached to him, she realized that she had not been attracted to the man himself, but the girl who obviously controlled him. The one who had the real power. Emma pulled away from him, all the silliness gone. Her eyes were cold and dark.
"I want to meet your woman. Take me to her."
He just nodded without hesitation. In fact, he seemed smug. Emma did not let that bother her. She knew him now, and the darkness did not scare her. Her instincts said that if she wanted to learn, she needed the best teacher she could find. The madness and the skill of the woman commanding this little blonde soldier was just the thing Emma wanted.
"Of course, Ms. America. It was the plan all along."
"Let's not keep her waiting then."
They collected their purchases and together they walked out to the dark streets of Prague.
This is a X-men/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover, set in Prague as mentioned in BtVS ep School Hard. I used Emma as a young, Hellfire affiliated kind of way, not really based on any particular comic.
Prague lit up like a firefly as the sun set. The heat of the end of summer still lingered over the town and the weather kept the flocks of tourists on the narrow streets. This suited the restaurant and shop owners, for the tourists were fickle: here today, gone tomorrow. Emma had only been here for a week but already she knew how to avoid the tourist infested areas. She walked away from the lights, deeper in the dark shadows.
Emma loved Prague and its grandiose architecture. Prague was an old city and it had survived much but still it carried its history with solemn dignity. Maybe in the eyes of the Czechs, she was just another foreigner but in her own mind, Emma felt connected to the city. Through her trip in Europe, courtesy of the Hellfire Club, Prague had proven to be the experience she had been waiting for. Right here, she was certain of it, was her best chance to blossom into a recognizable player.
However, she was still rather far from that goal. First, she was hardly grasping the depths of her powers, far less able to utilize them effectively. She was still plundering at times and searching for the best techniques that would suit her. Secondly, she was part of the intrigue power play inside the Hellfire Club. She was stuck with a weak hand and she was trying desperately to prop up her position. Mainly her approach involved cultivating her physical assets in the most flamboyant manner. She would dress up as a tart, a hooker, or a harlot, whichever the occasion happened to be. It was a form of power play and nothing else. The surest way to gain some advantage to do real damage was to attract people's attention. Moreover, nothing attracted attention quite like a strikingly half-naked young woman.
She had a favourite store that she visited often, and the owner knew that with Emma the money was no object. They kept something special stashed away just for her. This time it was a pale gray satin dress, exact hue of the fog hanging over the Vltava River in the mornings. It was demur - it only had a slit up to upper thigh. Emma was admiring herself from the mirror when the man walked in. She heard him and turned around to see who was speaking in such accent in the middle of the Prague.
It was rather surprising sight. He wore a worn jacket, dusty boots and his hair was even more unnatural shade of white than Emma's own was. There was something very strange about him. Not only did he seem completely out of place but also he did not seem to care. Emma watched him flash a devious smile to the shop girl and the girl just crumbled under the weight of his charm. Emma shivered. Her gut instinct screamed bloody danger.
As the shop girl went to collect arm full of dresses he had asked for, the man seemed to notice Emma for the first time. He stared at her as parched man stares a tall glass of water in a desert. Emma tried to hold her composure, but the sudden surge of lust betrayed her. The man smirked as if he knew what Emma was feeling.
"It is impolite to stare." Emma noted, turning back to look herself from the mirror. She tried to catch his reflection to read him out more, but the mirror was in wrong angle and he did not appear on the shiny surface.
"Frock like that begs some staring. American?"
"British?" Emma turned to ask, trying to look like she really did not care to continue this pointless conversation but still she could not help being curious. As the man flashed another naughty-but-endearing smile and walked a bit closer, Emma got even stronger sense that she was in immediate danger. She smiled. Danger could go in both ways. He stopped so close to her that they almost touched and Emma took a step back to maintain the distance, hitting her back against the cold mirror.
"You are long way from home, Ms. America. Got lost from your travel guide?"
"This is a women clothing store. I would say you are out of your playing field too, mate."
"Don't be so sure. I got a wicked fashion sense."
Emma pressed her back against the mirror, tilting her chin up in a cute manner that she had practiced. She smiled with wide innocence that looked almost genuine enough to believe. Even so close, Emma had hard time reading him. She felt the humanity and personal flare of him easily enough, but beyond that was something else. As she looked in his eyes, she tried to hone in that strange depth in his mind.
"You are wasting your time, Ms. America. Those baby blues don't work on this bloke." He laughed, and added "But if you want to play some more, I know a place to go."
Emma giggled, adding a dose of light-headed silliness in her voice. The girly blonde routine usually worked, but not this time. The guy just rolled his eyes, loosing his interest as suddenly as it has sparked. Emma was loosing her catch completely and she did not want to loose the light touch she had managed to form to his mind. She needed to know what the hidden thing in his mind was. She did the only maneuver she had left: the physical contact. She grabbed his jacket and pulled him to a deep kiss.
The darkness bloomed in her mind like a poisonous flower. It was exhilarating. The complete annihilation of everything that was not part of himself. It was Emma's own darkness, but magnified, purified and immensely old. She might have initiated the kiss, but he picked it up and forced it to continue.
The darkness alone was delicious, but there was something even more interesting interwoven in his mind. It appeared as web of silvery strands, knotted and looped all over his flow of thoughts. Emma had never felt anything like that before, not by any other psychic she had met. It was like a mental work of art. The man was already some girl's favourite puppet. The execution of the mental control was so delicate that Emma wondered if he even realized it was there. As she felt the strings attached to him, she realized that she had not been attracted to the man himself, but the girl who obviously controlled him. The one who had the real power. Emma pulled away from him, all the silliness gone. Her eyes were cold and dark.
"I want to meet your woman. Take me to her."
He just nodded without hesitation. In fact, he seemed smug. Emma did not let that bother her. She knew him now, and the darkness did not scare her. Her instincts said that if she wanted to learn, she needed the best teacher she could find. The madness and the skill of the woman commanding this little blonde soldier was just the thing Emma wanted.
"Of course, Ms. America. It was the plan all along."
"Let's not keep her waiting then."
They collected their purchases and together they walked out to the dark streets of Prague.