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cabinpres_fic) wrote2012-04-03 07:26 am
cabinpres_fic) wrote2012-04-03 07:26 am
Entry tags:
PROMPT POST PART IV
Please see the most recent MOD NOTE
(updated 6 June)
Welcome everybody. How you got here I have no idea but thank you for coming and welcome again, nonetheless . As you may have gathered this is a Fic Prompting Meme dedicated solely to the hilarious and oh-so-addictive BBC Radio 4 sitcom - Cabin Pressure. I'm aiming for this to be pretty anything goes - but in order for everything to run smoothly, there are a few guidelines. Don't worry - they're not too restrictive.
FILLING GUIDELINES
As you probably all know - our meme now has it's very own database created and maintained by the great Enigel. It both catalogues each and every prompt that we post and provides links to fills. You can find it here: Google Spreadsheet
We also have a Pinboard archive which has been put in place by the lovely
oxfordtweed in the place of our late Delicious Archive. This Archive contains a list of all the prompts this meme has to offer - you can find it here: Pinboard ArchiveThis is a great step forward in making our meme just a little more organised (but not too organised of course. This is Cabin Pressure) which is always a good thing.
So in order to make things easier to archive - Please nest your fills.
This can be done by either posting each part as a reply to that part's immediate predecessor, OR by replying each time to Part I OR - well you get the idea :D
It makes it simpler for Enigel and myself to link fills in a clean and clear manner. Following these guildelines will be very much appreciated guys :D
REPROMPTING
Reprompting is allowed but please include the URL of the original prompt when you do so. It will make it infinitely more easy to Archive which would make both Enigel and I very happy :)
As for everything else
- Be respectful to one another. Disagreements are fine, but not everything disagreeable is trolling. If you suspect someone of trolling, just ignore it. If you cannot respond to a comment without attacking or trolling someone else, keep it to yourself.
- No bashing prompts. It might not be your cup of tea - but obviously someone wants it enough to go to the effort of requesting it. So just scroll past it.
- Prompt away as much as you like guys - seriously, go wild - but please try to fill as well.
- Please no RPF. I'm not trying to oppress you RPF writers and enthusiasts, I would just really like to avoid any legal problems.
- When you post a fill (or post a new part of a WIP) please go over to the Filled Prompts Post (if it is complete) or the WIP Post (if there are still more parts to come) and, following each post's guideline's, post a link to this fill or new part.
NEW - If your fill includes a major element that veers from the original prompt (crossovers, established universes, kinks, et cetera), please take a few moments to check with the OP that such additions are welcome. This has caused problems in the past and it only takes a few moments of your time.
REALLY IMPORTANT ADDENDUM
According to numerous Child Safety laws it is illegal to provide pornographic material to minors. Seeing that the majority of the stuff we have here is rather adult in nature, this Meme is consequently an 18+ zone. Failing to comply to this rule could result in the Meme getting shut down. So if you're here and you're under 18 please back button now.
+ Please do not post anything regarding minors in a sexual situation. It really doesn't matter how tasteful or crass it is, there are laws that classify that sort of thing as child pornography and as such, I'm afraid we're going to have to go with the attitude that safe is better than sorry.
It really is VERY important that these rules are upheld as the consequences are severe.
Other than that - go crazy guys. Any problems please just message me and I'll try my best to work it out.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Prompt Index
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Fill: Batten Down the Hatches: A Scientific Romance 4/4 [Steampunk!AU]
Douglas, already having bolted from the hold at the whistle of the landing bell, to appease immediately his concern for his captain, Diego not a foot behind, comes into his own then. He sees the fine sheen of sweat across Martin's forehead that's nothing to do with the rain and more to do with near-crippling exhaustion, his hands still clenched to the helm like he can't bring himself to let go, and takes over proceedings with a slick aplomb. The wind's still high, but it's manageable now that they've touched ground, and it is now Douglas' job to make sure everything is as it would normally be. They'll have to give Gertie a once over for damage before they even consider flying her again; the masts repaired and the bulwark resealed, so for the moment, the first officer deals with the jobs he usually leaves for Martin – unloading the cargo to be taken away by the postal service, setting down their still very green and air-sick client who mumbles a nauseous thank you and who is very unlikely to be setting a foot skyward any time soon.
“Diego?” He calls out to the boatswain, beckoning him towards him. The Spaniard manges to tear his attention from helping the grounds crew unload the boxes and crates, keeping his gaze half fixed on Martin out of the corner of his eye, who Arthur is flitting around with a barely contained excitement, mixed with a faint worry (“That was brilliant Skip! It was as if Douglas had done it! I say, are you quite alright? You look dreadfully pale”) and focuses on Douglas, striding towards him.
There's a faint tenseness to the set of his pulled-back shoulders, hands clenching, unclenching, his head raised as though with determination as his leg taps across the concourse, giving a slight clang as the leg comes up, then down again. Of course, Douglas realises then, considering the phenomena of the Spaniard's current attitude, usually so cheery, Diego will recall that Douglas was witness to his sudden outburst on board, desperate and illegal, and liable to send both men to gaol in irons if Douglas had been of a more vindictive type. Diego is now waiting for the condemnation, accusations, the calls of his own private blasphemy, and holds his head up proudly as though daring the man in front of him to denounce him.
Douglas could. It would be so easy, speaking the right words to the right people, hinting, the peelers knocking at their door at all hours and taking them away. But he wouldn't. For all his skulduggery, for all his jokes and schemes, Douglas has seen a whole wide world of things unexplainable, a menagerie of debauchery and passion and poverty, and within these twisted lessons that he learns, he cannot bring himself to condemn something so gentle as love, the most harmless of all perversions. What is between Diego and Martin he can't understand, but it doesn’t mean he has been given any superior right to persecute, doesn't mean he can cast out judgement.
Diego is standing there waiting for an executioner who will never come.
“Go and see to Martin.” Douglas says finally, nodding over to indicate the drained captain, who is almost swaying with tiredness, his legs near to buckling, standing off to one side slumped against the wooden slats of Gertie's hull. Diego's eyebrows raise, pleasantly surprised, reading Douglas' face, his intentions for any hint of dishonesty. He would have been so sure, Douglas thinks with a soft tang of sadness, that he was going to suffer for his crime of loving another.
Not finding any indication of trickery, Diego inclines his head with a faint grateful smile curling on his lips, a thankfulness in his gesture, before he does his duty as both a crew member and a lover, and makes his way over to Martin to fulfil Douglas' request. The Spaniard gently takes Martin's arm, the pilot leaning against him with his eyes half closed like the man is the only post to keep him standing. Diego's face is black with soot around the frame of his goggles from the furnaces, the dust smeared on his forearms and on the cuffs of his plain shirt from when he had to roll them up, and there is a scorched line of rope burn across Martin's palm from where he's been flung off his feet from the storm and has had to grab the rigging. The captain's leg must have been hurt by a fall, for he limps slightly as he walks, Diego muttering something low in his ears that Douglas is not privy to, his own leg trailing lazy steam as a will-o-wisp behind them. Both are propping each other up, giving in to momentary sentimentalism, the calming of their fears, and even though they do nothing more than hold each other, arms over shoulders and hands around waists, to a watching Douglas it is oddly intimate now he knows the true nature of their touches.
Carolyn hasn't managed to secure lodgings for them here, considering the sudden and unintended nature of their stop, but even she agrees that they'll stay land bound for the rest of the dawn to pass rather than flying back to Fitton, unsure as to whether the storm bank has dissipated yet. They've slept on ship before, and Arthur is enthusiastic about the prospect of sleeping in a hammock, extolling the virtues of how it's part of the great secret to happiness, along with tossing apples and going to the Turkish baths. Douglas for one will find comfort only in so far as it will be a place to rest his weary bones.
He passes the captain's cabin on the way to his own, head filled with thoughts all dead set on a long hearty rest. The cabin is nothing as spacious as his property back home, but it is suitable for the night and for its intended purpose, and it is only the low murmured voices of Martin and the boatswain from inside the cabin that make him linger, curiosity getting the better of him such as it always has.
“You stupid man, you know that?” That's Diego's voice he picks out, slow and filled with tenderness rather than any inkling towards anger. Douglas slides closely, searches out a crack between door frame and wainscoting where he can glance in with a squinted eye at the scene; Martin and Diego sitting up on the small single bed against the side, crushed right against each other in a settled coalescence of limbs and clothes. “You could have died.”
“Everyone dies some day.” Martin mumbles. His eyes are closed, head rested on Diego's shoulder, visibly less unstrung than he was before as he allows himself to be held in the other man's arms, all his strings cuts, his lungs pumping air in and out of his lungs in a slow rhythmic motion.
Diego snorts, derisive. “Not me. I plan on living forever.”
Martin gives a short laugh at that, quiet but still tangible as sound, and the openness of it surprises Douglas from his post as listener; it's warm and unchecked, entirely unselfconscious. Martin usually laughs like he feels he's not meant to, like it's a forbidden luxury he isn't permitted, but here, it's a subtle indulgence, a freedom allowed to himself entirely without reproach.
Diego smiles, seeming to like hearing Martin laugh. He runs his fingers through the man's curls, twisting them carefully around the circumference of his fingers before unwinding them again. “So don't you shorten my plans by doing stupid things like that, you hear me?”
“Someone needed to take control of the situation.” Martin says defensively
“Sí, I know that. I not get at you. You were magnifico.”
“Really?” Martin half sits up at that, observing Diego's expression like he's not quite sure whether the man is mocking him or not.
“Sí” Diego replies back, a light glow of pride in his eyes. “Magnifico.”
Martin colours a faint pink at that, beaming with his own rare blossoming of pride, a self-satisfied sensation, of having worth, of having done something right to the best of his ability. “I did do alright didn't I?” he murmurs softly, smiling to himself as though he can barely believe it himself.
“More than alright, Martin. Only... no worry me like that again. I thought I... would not see you again” Diego avoids Martin's eyes for a moment, and Douglas can't see his expression from his position peeking through, but when he does get a glance at it, he reads it for what it is: a kind of hardened fear, the sort that expects tragedy but rages against it with every laboured breath, vicious loyalty and burning protectiveness.
“I'm sorry Diego.” Martin replies, sounding as though he means it, apologies in every syllable, and presses a kiss to Diego's temple, laying them down against the skin like penances until Diego grasps his hands to him, forgives Martin for the moment, until the next time, and the next time, and the next, both knowing deep down that theirs is not a life where the safe option is always possible.
They lie there for a few moments, not talking, and Douglas contemplates leaving his self-appointed vigil until he hears the sound of his own name being mentioned.
“Douglas knows now, doesn't he?”
The first mate shifts, wondering if they can hear him outside, for a fearful moment thinking they've caught him eavesdropping on them, his brain ready with all sorts of lies and excuses as to why he has been standing there. There's a resignation in Martin's voice that he's not quite comfortable with, a kind of weighted sigh that expects too much, the fearful whisper of a condemned man at the bar.
“I see no problem with this.” Diego replies.
“That's until he gets the marshals knocking on the door.” Martin squeezes his eyes shut, biting his lip. He sounds like he's going to the gallows. “God above Diego, what if he tells? What do we do?”
“Martin, amorcito, I no think there is anything to be worried over.”
“It might seem like nothing, but I have no intention of spending my days in gaol or transported to some godforsaken island, nor watching you suffer the same fate because of my transgressions. You know what they'd do with people like you and me. You know what the consequences are.” Martin buries his head against Diego's neck, distress blotching his pale face redder. He sighs, ragged and faltering, and his fingers curl around the fabric of Diego's undershirt, wanting contact to be ever nearer, reassurance in minute touches and imprints on skin and cloth.
“I don't want to run away again.” he breathes out, too many stories in his words, too many bad memories. “We're always running away. Jumping ship when someone gets too close, when we aren't careful enough, and I thought that here, finally, finally we'd be safe.” Diego strokes a finger over the metal plating on the side of Martin's face without interrupting, soothing, reassuring. Trying to heal scars that might not ever completely fade, trying to fix a whole lifetime of disappointments with only fragile words as his instruments.
“It feels like home here.” Martin continues, “Carolyn, and Arthur and, and damn even Douglas. Like a family. Like a family should feel like.” There is far too much history in that statement, and Douglas shifts, discomforted with his actions, that he is breaking his trust by standing here, that Martin should expect so little of him, shame curling in his stomach as he realises that the fear is entirely justified, that Douglas has never given him any quarter with which to think he may been accepted by the older man.
“Martin, Martin, shh,” Diego murmurs, pulling the younger man closer, pressing a kiss to the bronze of his temple. “Querido, there is nothing to be scared of. Douglas will not say anything, I know he will not. This is home now for us, sí? This ship, this crew, me and you. We are going nowhere. No need for us to run away anymore.” His voice dips slighter, fond, muffled by the the wooden wall. “Now close your eyes and sleep, love. You will be tired. I will be here when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Douglas does not know that this is a ritual forged out over many night times. Martin will ask for a promise as though every time he expects another answer, Diego replying as though he never imagines he will respond with anything else, and that's the way this always goes. It's not a weak, or foolish gesture, it's just the slow healing of a man knocked down too many times to have a smile on his face when he gets back up. And the way Diego replies, earnest, trusting, as though he's thrown his all into this with both eyes closed in case it all goes wrong, as though he's not used to loving anyone so deeply, so openly; neither of them quite over the simple pleasures of falling asleep in someone else's arms.
They don't say I love you to each other, not tonight, because it's already been said: in the rub of fingertips against the skin of a forearm, twisted up against each other, metal gleam smothered by the messed up blanket over them, the way that space appears irrelevant, Martin's eye patch left on the bedside table, scarred skin bared uncaring. The way they display themselves whole, their marks and scars and wounded places, and believe that they will not be seen any differently because of them.
The two might have said more to each other, Martin with his head leant against Diego's shoulder, the Spaniard's fingers trailing through the captain's hair, but Douglas does not stay to hear it. This is none of his business now, these twilight hours with talk in secret tongues and the language of unspoken companionship is not the place for his intrusion. And Diego is right in the respect that Douglas will not breath a word of this to anyone. He will hold his silence and his tongue, no jokes, no sly remarks, no teasing to wind Martin up, no plying of his usual trades because this is too delicate for such heavy handedness. Martin would freeze, coltish, at any mention of it, eyes glancing, wide, far too vulnerable for a man so young in years; Diego would stiffen, proud but wary, and warn Douglas off with a glare to back down. This is not his place to interfere, and he has no right to pass his judgement upon any man, least of all for reasons of love. Their secrets will remain so, theirs should they ever wish to share them.
Douglas creeps away from the undertone of sleep-slow talking, smiling softly as he makes his way to his cabin. There will be wide clear skies tomorrow. He can just tell.
Re: Fill: Batten Down the Hatches: A Scientific Romance 4/4 [Steampunk!AU]
Re: Fill: Batten Down the Hatches: A Scientific Romance 4/4 [Steampunk!AU]
Re: Fill: Batten Down the Hatches: A Scientific Romance 4/4 [Steampunk!AU]
THIS IS MAGNIFICO! I have adored it so much!
*curtseys to the awesome*
Re: Fill: Batten Down the Hatches: A Scientific Romance 4/4 [Steampunk!AU]
Re: Fill: Batten Down the Hatches: A Scientific Romance 4/4 [Steampunk!AU]
I've never read anything like this - it's magnificent.
The world building you've done and the detail, not to mention the sweet, angst-filled love story. Just beautiful.
Re: Fill: Batten Down the Hatches: A Scientific Romance 4/4 [Steampunk!AU]