ANON FIC MEME

[dismembers.livejournal.com]

_ANON FIC MEME_


...yeah okay, that was lame. DWI. As a change of pace from our usual kink memes, here's an all-purpose fic meme to cover all our bases. While adult prompts and fills are still a-okay, general prompts for fic are just as welcome here! As usual, there are a few guidelines that should probably be followed to keep this flowing smoothly;

☆ one request per comment!
☆ if you make a request, please try to make a fill as well!
☆ if a request specifies a certain rating (such as keeping it pg-13 and under/non-porny/etc), please honor it!
☆ have fun!
☆ ???
☆ profit!

Comments

Moondance 2/2

[(Anonymous)]

After a moment he points to one side of his helmet, where he’d carefully chalked ‘ROOKIE’ in. He’d figured not everyone here would be able to tell the differences between his armor and O’Brien’s, so he decided to make it easy on everyone. The Program seemed to perk at that and nodded enthusiastically.

Anon! That was the name! Geeze, no wonder he’d been having problems. How much more generic could a name be?
… Not that he has to think of the answer. James Dante. J.D.
John Doe.
Shit.

He noticed Anon tilts his head slightly, like a confused dog. Apparently the line of thought – that led invariably to trying and failing to identify what was left of people that were possibly his friends – was somehow visible. Which was when he realized that he’d slumped his shoulders a little bit as he considered all of that. He squared them again, shaking his head. Just fine.

And that was when he got a look. He wasn’t even sure how he could tell he was getting a look, but there it was. Like the Program – whom he’d always pegged as the hyper-loyal, hyper-hopeful type – knew exactly what he was thinking and that he was most certainly not fine.

After a few moments he shrugged. Okay, okay, so maybe his head was in a bad place for a bit there. Well, more than a bit. It’s not like he can exactly help it around here. All of these broken fucking soldiers and not one psychiatrist. And he copes because he forced himself to get some help before he applied for the ODSTs – there’s crazy and then there’s crazy – but it’s hard sometimes.

Anon could apparently read him like a book because the Program shifted towards him and hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder.

Huh.
Maybe this Monitor, from a world that doesn’t know the terrors some of their lauded ‘Users’ face and wouldn’t ever be able to handle themselves in a fight with firearms, understood better than he thought.

He checked the time on his HUD and thought for a moment. “… Hey. Know this nice spot to watch sunset from. You up for it?”

The Program let out a noise like static that he could still pick up a note of as Anon spoke. “If you can keep up with me.”