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measured_wordsFafhrd and the Grey Mouser
For Kujaku
200 words
Fafhrd laughed at the sight of the Mouser, soaked and covered in tentacles of green slime. The smaller man scrambled to his feet, a peevish look darkening his countenance.
"You would laugh, you oaf! And I will lay the blame for this situation entirely at your feet."
He laughed again, shaking odorous stagnant water from his own hair. "My fault? The quest was your idea, friend."
"My idea? What, hardly! I merely suggested that there may be a way for the caper to be plausibly effected. Never did I contend that we should actually undertake it – no, that was your bargain, and me dragged miserably along, as usual. Leave it to the would-be hero to let himself be ensnared by another pretty face and woeful tale. Aremestia of the Sad Eyes they call her… Perhaps Aremestia of the Deceitful Tears would better describe that venomous siren!" He paused in his tirade, shooting his companion another sly and thoroughly annoyed look. "Or Aremestia of the bountiful bosoms."
Farfhrd sighed. "Well, she is quite comely, at that."
"Aye," The Mouser agreed begrudgingly, checking to see that none of the foul swamp sludge has seeped into Scalpel's thin scabbard. "And rich, too."
Aremistia of the Resolved Heart
Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser
For Kujaku
100 words
Aremistia readjusted her bodice as the two thieves departed. The small one would do it for greed, and the big one for lust – for her or for his slight companion, she wasn't sure. She didn't care. She just wanted her life back.
Using the two scoundrels – the one as obnoxious as the other was obsequious – was just the first step. Once they returned and concluded their business, the rest would be all up to her. The pair would get on with their sordid adventures, and she could finally trade her sad eyes for a more hopeful look.
Face Forward
Aliens
For Silveraspen
100 words
Ripley paused at the doorway, watching the marines. There seemed to be an awful lot of name calling and harassment involved in disassembling and cleaning one's weapons. Their routine was relaxed but precise – they'd clearly gone through these motions hundreds of times before. But would it really help them prepare for what they were going to face this time? For acid, claws, and terror? She didn't know.
The marines shared along before one of the men – Hudson? – glanced up at her. "Can we help you, lady?"
"Yes." She rallied her confidence. "Show me how to do that."
Indiana Jones and the Profile of Soil
Indiana Jones
for Eisoj5
100 words
He crouched on his heels, staring intently at the wall, waiting for the sun to reach that perfect angle when it would reveal all the secrets of the site. He fingered the cartouche the diggers had uncovered, running the scenarios over in his mind. It shouldn't have been there – Senwosret II's rule was much too late for the house style they'd been seeing at this level.
He tipped his fedora to shade his eyes, and peered closer. And – there it was, just as he suspected: the faint outline of an ancient looter's pit. Beaten to the punch, again.
