The Scribbler Scribbles...

Snippets from the Ficlet o'Clock

At the Door - beta edits complete

She came to the door at midnight, white hair trailing over her long white skirts, mouth wide open, hand raised in supplication, Come with me.

— prompted by Rabia Gale

Breath from a Stone - drafting

She crouches before the fire on the other side and lays her spear over her bare knees. "You can breathe from the stone?" she asks.

The old man laughs. "Cannot all the breathers?"

Jaguar flashes him a smile, all sharp white teeth, then closes them as if she has bitten flesh. "Not the breather I slew."

— prompted by Rabia Gale

[ working title ] - drafting

The two young women did not get along, but no one, not even Professor Xavier, knew because let's face it, sweet and lovely Jean Grey was above all that and would never stoop to telepathic revenge, and beautiful, patronizing Emma Frost would never soil her perfection by engaging with those who were beneath her, at least not without sufficient provocation, worthy of losing her reputation for ladylike behavior. But internally, the study partners were vicious, exploiting every advancement in their race to become the most powerful telepath. Their mutual hatred and ambition served them well: it drove their performance and outward smiles until...


— prompted by lithiumlaughter

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