Drabble #75: Cold
Friday, 7 December 2018 08:24![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jalenstrix in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
labyfic...we had a quieter response to the drabble prompt of Drabble 74, with entries by the fantastic
3iggy and me (your intrepid drabble proposer jalenstrix). 3iggy and I also represented the labyfic collective with commenting love — huzzah!For this prompt, we continue with our one-word drabble roots, with a word inspired by current temperatures where I am:
Cold
Is this literal, emotional, metaphysical, all three, or something else entirely? Tell. Us. About it. Labyfic-style.
Given our entries from recent months, let's continue with the limit for this month of 500 words. Though remember that shorter pieces are most definitely welcome!
Your entry should take the following format, posted as a comment on this entry:
Word count: # of words
Drabble: $your_beautiful_drabble
I'll aim to get the next drabble challenge out on the first Friday of next month (Jan 4).
I'm also very happy to take suggestions if something in particular strikes your fancy -- comment on this post or PM me with your suggestions. You can see our current collected suggestions here.
Remember: Feedback is LOVE. So do reply to your fellow labyficcers' drabbles if so inclined. (Though be careful of concrit unless specifically okayed by the author beforehand.)
no subject
2018-12-19 15:26 (UTC)The Visitor
It was four days before Christmas and there was a goblin on the doorstep. Sarah could hardly believe her eyes. It was so hideous as to be cute—well played Goblin King—she thought to herself as she crouched down to the little bugger’s level.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” Sarah asked the goblin.
“Hey lady,” it answered in the way characteristic of goblin-kind, “I haves a gift for you.” It clutched a square box in it’s little paws. It was wrapped with white paper and tied with a silver ribbon.
“My good goblin,” Sarah tried not to sound too frightened by the prospect, “I don’t accept gifts from goblin men. Didn’t he tell you that?”
“I ain’t a man,” the goblin growled and it was in fact wearing a rather dirty bow in its stringy hair. Two points to the Goblin King.
“That gift isn’t from you though is it?” Sarah eyed the package as if it might contain a nasty virus or some venomous snake.
“Nah, suppose not,” the she-goblin answered. “It’s from the Kingy.”
“The Kingy?” Sarah couldn’t help but giggle. Kingy just didn’t sound all that fearsome.
“I can’ts take it back. I can’ts go back unless you takes it,” she glanced at Sarah doubtfully.
“Would you like to come inside while I ponder this conundrum?” Sarah asked. The poor thing seemed so out of place on her front doorstep shin-deep in snow and with her ears turning blue. It was dreadfully cold out.
“Pound a drum?” The goblin’s eyes lite up gleefully.
“That’s not what I said,” Sarah opened the door wider so the goblin could totter on in.
It took Sarah only a moment to pass a mug of peppermint hot chocolate over to the little dear. Then she filled a plate full of sugar cookies and set it before the goblin as she examined the gift. It looked harmless enough, but things were never really what they seemed when it came to Labyrinthy things.
“What’s your name?” Sarah asked, taking a bite out of her own cookie.
“Bobbit,” the goblin answered with a spewing of crumbs.
“Well, Bobbit,” Sarah handed her a napkin, I’m afraid you might want to get comfortable. You may be my new roommate because there is no way in hell I’m accepting that gift.”
Bobbit glanced around with a tight little sigh. “It’s not exactly the bog now is it? So I suppose I can’ts complain.”
“That’s the right attitude,” Sarah grabbed her own mug and the plate of cookies and moved from the kitchen counter over to the loveseat and coffee table. “How do you feel about Christmas movies, Bobbit ole girl?”
“Is there singing?” Bobbit scrambled up onto the loveseat.
“Oh yes,” Sarah nodded gravely.
“I guess I likes them then,” Bobbit took a cookie in each little claw as Sarah wrapped her in a fuzzy pink blanket.
Funny enough, a little company was just what she’d been wanting for Christmas.
no subject
2018-12-29 02:09 (UTC)no subject
2023-07-25 09:44 (UTC)no subject
2018-12-29 02:07 (UTC)Drabble:
“Frigid bitch!”
I ignored the insult as the student stormed out of my office. It wasn’t the first time a handsome young man had tried to seduce me to gain a few more percentage points on his final grade.
“Why did you let him say such things?” The blades in that voice could have sliced an ice block in two.
I shrugged at the Goblin King who had materialized in my office guest chair, regally crossing one pointed Fluevog boot over the other. He was easy on the eyes, and no mistake—twenty-something boys didn’t stand a chance. Also, it was entirely possible said Goblin King had been there invisibly watching my student’s semi-suave seduction attempt, which meant I had to do some damage control pronto. “It doesn’t bother me that some hapless twenty-year-old lets off steam by muttering imprecations.”
“Mmmm, imprecations. Fancy. You are irritated after all. Would you like me to rain a plague upon his head?”
I smiled despite myself. “Thanks, but no.”
“Are you sure? It would give me great pleasure. And I could be quite subtle, I promise.”
I arched an eyebrow.
He rubbed his hands together, grinning like a fiend. “Something appropriate for the season...like always being just a touch cold, no matter what he does. You wouldn’t believe how fast that can drive someone around the bend. The damage is insidious and primarily psychological.”
I leaned my chin on my hand. “Permanent psychological damage for one nasty comment? Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”
“He needs to learn not to insult people. It’s an important life lesson. I’d be doing the clout a favor, really.”
“Mmmhmm. And this wouldn’t have anything to do with you seeking jealous Faerie vengeance upon a witless human boy who insulted your girlfriend.”
“As I said, an important life lesson.” He arched his hands into readiness, waggling his fingers. “So, shall I?”
“Maybe just for a week.”
“A year.”
“Two weeks.”
“A month. Come, Sarah, he impugned your kindness, which is one of my favorite qualities. That’s worth at least a month of retribution.”
I laughed softly. “I love you, you over-protective Faerie nut.”
“Happily, I’m your over-protective Faerie nut, and I brought you such a nice hot drink to warm those perpetually cold hands of yours.” He whisked a steaming latte out from some pocket of reality and set it neatly in front of me before resuming his spell-casting position. “So, a month?”
“A month. And Jareth?”
He paused mid-flick. “Yes?”
“I can think of some better ways to warm my cold hands.”
His smile was a thing of velvet promise as each tapered finger finished executing a set of precise gestures. “So can I. We should probably close your office door first.”
“Good idea.”
no subject
2018-12-31 19:39 (UTC)no subject
2018-12-31 19:44 (UTC)no subject
2023-07-25 09:47 (UTC)no subject
2018-12-31 13:24 (UTC)Drabble:
"Winter"
Winter in the Underground often lasted a few months. Dusk descended earlier and dawn was late to come. Sometimes snow appeared, other times it didn't.
The year after The Run, the Underground was struck with a blizzard which covered the Labyrinth higher than its walls and froze the Bog of Eternal Stench. The denizens of the Underground who were unfortunate enough to be out and about froze into icicles. When touched, they disintegrated into pure white snow.
Winter soon became something to be feared after that. Each year, the frost grew more and more. Darkness covered much of the Underground as the daylight waned.
It began in increments. Whispers and rumors of dark places in the labyrinth. Places where goblins entered and never came back. Some scoffed that it was naught but another oubliette. But more and more denizens disappeared.
His subjects began to approach the King in earnest. Droves of Underground residents trekked to the center of the Labyrinth. But the King was not in attendance.
Complaints and murmuring could be heard day and night in the palace and still the King did not appear. The darkness crept over the land; leaving the rest of the Underground in perpetual dusk.
Year after year, the Underground suffered. Until at long last only the palace remained. The Undergound folk had ceased seeking sanctuary at the palace for they found out that it wasn't the safest place to be; darkness lurked in its crevices. Phantom voices could be heard softly whispering, often heralded by a chill in the air. Those that did not leap away from these place simply vanished from existence mid-breath.
On the first day of the thirteenth year of winter, the Underground ceased to be. It began with slowly falling snow which covered everything in sight. The denizens of the Underground looked up into the sky and whispered prayers to their King. They wondered where He was before lying down on the ground and closing their eyes one last time.
Deep in the palace, beyond the Staircases to Nowhere, on a scarlet bed, lay the Goblin King. His eyes were closed; they had seen their last upon a dark-haired girl many years ago. In his right hand was a pulsating crystal, its center filled with a glimpse of falling snow.
no subject
2018-12-31 15:10 (UTC)no subject
2019-01-01 07:31 (UTC)On a hopeful note, think of it as somehow a Sleeping Beauty fic like 3iggy mentioned with the true love's kiss.
no subject
2019-01-03 17:55 (UTC)no subject
2019-01-04 08:15 (UTC)no subject
2018-12-31 19:44 (UTC)Truly lovely and wintery!
By the way, I’m a huge Ben Solo groupie!
no subject
2019-01-01 07:38 (UTC)Yes, I think he needs true love's kiss to wake up. He's not dead. Just sleeping.
Here's to Ben Solo and Jareth! :D
no subject
2023-07-25 09:49 (UTC)no subject
2023-07-26 02:34 (UTC)Skittled
2023-07-25 09:51 (UTC)Drabble:
Sarah limped into the Castle library, her face a mixture of pain and confusion.
“Are you okay, love?” Jareth crossed the room and scooped her into his arms. He deposited her gently on a chaise longue and rolled up the leg of her trousers to examine her injury.
“It’s nothing.” Sarah waved away his concern, fondly running her fingers through his hair. “Just a bruise.”
Jareth briefly leaned into her hand, closing his eyes as her fingernails gently scratched his scalp. “Let me take care of that for you.” He ran the palm of his hand over the warm spot on her shin where she knew a bruise would be forming.
Sarah gasped as warmth sunk into her leg, as it dissipated so did the pain of the bruise. “Thanks.” She pulled Jareth up and onto the chaise with her and graced him with a kiss.
“What happened?” Jareth wrapped his arms around Sarah.
Sarah’s brows furrowed. “Did you know the ornamental pond outside the library has frozen over?”
“Ah, you got caught up in their games didn’t you?” Jareth’s concern coloured his voice.
“Sort of.” Sarah snuggled back into Jareth’s arms. “The goblins were getting a little excited at the competition and one of them fell out of a tree.”
“It hit you?”
Sarah shook her head. “Bishop grabbed him before he hit the ground, but we didn’t realise it was two goblins. The second one let go of his friend and smacked into my legs.”
“Do I need to bog someone?”
Sarah shook her head, not terribly sure if he was kidding or not. “When he realised who he’d crashed into he screamed and ran away.” Jareth huffed a laugh. “What were the goblins doing on the pond? The little I saw before the goblin incident looked like bowling.”
Jareth pulled Sarah into his lap. “That’s a close enough description. It’s something like a cross between skittles and curling, but with goblins in the roles of both the skittles and the stone.”
“How do they score?” Sarah ran a finger down Jareth’s nose, gasping when he caught her finger in his teeth and ran his tongue over the tip.
“I don’t think a game has lasted long enough to determine that. If the stone hits the skittles, there’s a better than even chance of a fight breaking out. But if the stone doesn’t reach the end, then the skittles can get distracted and wander off.”
Sarah threaded her fingers through Jareth’s, lifting his hand to kiss his knuckles. “It sounds like it would only last a few minutes, why is there such a crowd?”
“Because everyone wants a turn and the game lasts until someone breaks the ice and everyone ends up in the water.” Sarah nodded in understanding at what was typical goblin behaviour. If anything was worth doing, it was worth doing to excess. “Deeper water and armour are a poor combination, which is why they are now only allowed to play it on the pond.”