destinystrings | Fairy Fanfic Festival

Fairy Fanfic Festival

Who: Everyone signed up here!
Where: It's a secret to everybody.
When: February 14th-16th
Summary: The most ~~terrible~~ romantic day of the year has arrived!
Warnings: Lingerie and fluff

You awaken in a dark room.

...To the sound of giggling.

"Ohmygosh, they're finally awake!" The shrill voice elicits an uncontrollable wince of pain; as the lights flicker on, the wince is liable to evolve into a full-on expression of abject horror. Everything is pink. The bed is pink. The walls are pink. The flower petals are pink. The confetti and streamers are pink. The enormous scented candles strewn about everywhere are pink.

............The tight briefs and/or lingerie that may or may not be on your body in place of your own underwear are pink (You do get to keep your clothing, so this part is optional if you don't want to play it - your characters can wake up in their normal bedclothes or day clothes if you like. However, if your characters do wake up in sexy underwear or their PJs, their normal clothes will be in a nearby dresser.)

Before you have too much time to consider exactly what's going on, the voice sounds again.

"We are going to have so much fun! We just knew the two of you would be perfect together. No connection to the outside world whatsoever! No need to thank us! Now, we'll just be here in the corner and you two can just... oh, you know!"

The fairy blushes and sighs longingly.

"OK! Good luck!"

'The two of you'? What t --

Right about then, you realize someone else is in bed next to you.

[The event has begun! Please refer to this post to see how things will go. If you prefer not to have fairies directly involved, they will very generously allow you a little time ~alone~ if you ask, though they will return. Otherwise, they will be scribbling notes, drawing and narrating your "steamy romance" (romance may not be as steamy as implied). Characters can attack the fairies all they like, but it will have no effect, as they're projecting themselves in with magic while they watch from the safety of their little pixie laptops.

Remember that you control the fairies and what they say. We've created an npc account

pixielove and you can find the password here, so have fun! You're free to use the account or not at your discretion.

Additionally, for the 14th to the 15th at night, anyone stuck together will not be able to contact the outside world. Don't worry, the fairies will let everyone know you're safe!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

... Indeed.

I suggest we try to find a way out. [After a short moment, he corrects himself:] And... And our clothes. Perhaps we should begin with our clothes.

[Meanwhile, in the corner, one of the fairies squeals in an excited manner and begins to narrate in a loud voice. The other fairy, who's holding onto a pen that's almost as big as itself with both hands, is quick to jot it all down.]

Our story begins with two dashing gentlemen who are both not what they appear! They live their lives in the face of danger every day, dealing with murder, corruption, kidnappings... Always tiptoeing along the raw underbelly of the criminal world, but now they must face their greatest challenge of all: Love! As Bobby peers deeply into Shelly de Killer's eyes, he knows this man might just have what it takes to awaken those feelings buried deep inside of him!

[Except that Bobby's not peering deeply into Shelly's eyes, or even looking in his general direction. He's a little too busy peeking under the sheets, because the mention of clothes had him wondering. ...... It's a pink banana hammock. Those little bastards put him in a pink banana hammock. No way is he getting out of the bed like this. Not without pants.

At the end of the fairy's narration, though, he looks up at the little creature with a frown. Why, he seems almost offended.]

Excuse me?

[Shelly inhales in determination as he throws back his side of the sheets and jumps out of bed (goodness, it's a little cold, but he can't let that bother him right now). He casually approaches one of the fairies, reaches out--]

[Aaaand his hand goes right through her.

Then he just kind of stands there for a few seconds while he attempts to come up with a solution to all of this.

(He doesn't.)

Maybe he should try to find his clothes. His search around the room begins with a sigh.

~~You know he's pretty fit for a guy who looks like he's, what, 50?~~]

[Bobby just sits and watches as the hand fazes right through the fairy. It's almost like a cheap magic trick. Something with mirrors or a holo projection, maybe. He's seen a lot of odd creatures in Hinoto-Ri already, so fairies wouldn't be too much of a stretch, but are they really there or aren't they?

Well, he supposes it doesn't matter. His eyes linger on Shelly for a moment (good god, how far down do those stitches go?), then he turns his attention to the nightstand beside him, careful not to move the sheets. Without any of his weapons on him, he feels defenseless and weak. At least his sunglasses are there. If he's lucky, he'll find his watch too.]

[It isn't too long before he finds where they're keeping their clothes. Sadly, his regular underwear is nowhere to be seen... not that he's sure he would be able to change out of the briefs right here.]

Your clothes are here... Mr. Detective.

[He calls him that not only because of their deal, but also because he has no idea what else he might call him.

Shelly retrieves his clothing from the dresser and begins putting it on. It's more wrinkled than usual. How disgraceful.]

[The fairies titter with delight at what's going on, and once again the more vocal of the two begins to narrate.]

"Your clothes are here..." Shelly begins in a deep, sullen voice, before tacking on the title of "Mr. Detective." An endearing nickname spoken in hopes of easing the tension that's building between the two. Tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. Oh, how he longs for the detective's firm touch, but he knows their love could never be.

[...What. What is that fairy jabbering on about? The Phantom would respond with his usual deadpan stare, but Bobby Fulbright would not, so he ends up looking quite flustered indeed.]

Uhm... If it's not too much trouble, could you throw me my pants?

[He turns to the fairies, mouth hanging open, lifts a finger, and finally manages to say,] Stop. Immediately.

[Then, muttering an "of course," he takes Fulbright's pants and throws them at him. Thankfully, Shelly is already wearing his own.]

[He catches the pants with one hand and moves them under the sheets to try and put his feet through them. Still, ultimately he has no choice but to get out of bed to make this work. He slips out from under the sheets and pulls his pants up so fast that Shelly will barely have time to see the banana hammock. Barely.

Though, now that he's standing, he can spot the gun holster that's lying on the ground next to the bedside cabinet. The gun holster holding his badge, revolver and also his watch for some reason.]

[Shelly wouldn't look at the banana hammock if someone forced him to.

He does, however, spot the holster. It's right next to what he was carrying before... whatever is happening began to happen: three knives. A Luger. Leather gloves.

Common, day-to-day objects.]

The holster is yours, correct?

[Common? Oh please. The way Bobby sees it, Shelly's lucky he got locked in with a person who knows he's not some simple baker, or this selection of belongings might've been difficult to explain.

He makes sure to snatch that holster up before Shelly can get to it. There's a reason he always keeps it strapped to his side for easy access, after all. Not that he can do the same right now; he needs to put on the rest of his clothes first, but just having the holster in hand will do for now. It makes him feel more- ...No, it doesn't make him feel anything, it just makes him more secure, period.

As he reaches for his shirt with his other hand, he turns his attention to the fairies.]

You know kidnapping is a major federal offense, don't you? [...As far as the term "federal" goes in this city, anyway.]

[The fairy simply giggles, a hand in front of her mouth.]

Of course! Everybody knows that! This isn't a kidnapping, it's a romantic intervention. [She turns her attention back to her pen-wielding companion. There's still a lot more novel writing to be done and only two days to do it in, after all.] Ahem. As the two men attempt to regain a sense of normality by covering up their bare, trained bodies- Hm... No no, scratch that. -By covering up muscular bodies that look as if they were carved out of marble by angels, it's easy to tell the both of them are avoiding the major issue. For on this day of Valentine, what matters is not clothing, it's love.

[~~PLEASE, BAKERS HAVE THE RIGHT TO SELF-DEFENSE TOO.~~

If only the fairies were tangible. It's not as if he would kill them, or anything, but threats are a nice, familiar way of regaining control, and they're certainly easier when you are in the presence of s--

A kidnapping? Threats?

Of course. There's another way he can go about this. He only hopes the fairies aren't omniscient or anything. Mythology isn't exactly where his expertise lies.

Now fully dressed and with his possessions retrieved, he casually moves closer to Fulbright and murmurs, as quietly as he can, hoping that the simple fact he isn't looking at the other man won't prompt more embarrassing comments from the fairies:]

Mr. Detective, I will need you to trust me here.

[What matters on this day of Valentine is love? He'd much rather focus on the clothing. In fact, he's just buttoning his shirt when Shelly sidles closer to mutter something. Trust is just as ludicrous a concept as love, if not moreso. Ludicrous to the Phantom, that is. Bobby Fulbright, on the other hand, values trust greatly. Besides, he'd made a deal with 'John Doe'.

He continues fiddling with his shirt, but at the same time he responds with a soft, subtle:] Hmm?

[He whispers his response as subtly as he can...] I won't harm you permanently. [... Before grasping his Luger again, pressing it against Bobby's head, and turning to face the fairies.]

Listen carefully. If you don't cease this now and let us go, this man will pay with his life.

[He then glances at the detective and adds:] I, ah, will allow you to finish getting dressed first.

[The moment that gun is pressed against his head, he freezes, a stunned look washing over his face. His preferred first instinct would be to fight back, but with the close proximity, there's no way for him to avoid the bullet if the trigger's pulled.

It's just a trick. It's just a trick and he doesn't mean to pull the trigger.

Yet, what if he does? Assassins can't be trusted, especially not when driven into a corner. Besides, there are people who want to see him dead. There were always people who wanted to see him dead. He remembers the pain he felt when the sniper bullet pierced his chest, but even moreso, he remembers the fear that washed over him in that courtroom.

Don't be afraid. You're better than this. You're above this.

He closes his eyes and draws a deep, steading breath through his nose as he remembers the additional training he'd received. He doesn't need to be afraid, he just needs to act afraid.]

H-haaah? But you...!

[Finishing getting dressed is the last thing on his mind right now, regardless. His gaze turns to the fairies, waiting to see what they'll do. Sadly, the duo is giggling so loudly that it's obvious they're not taking Shelly seriously.]

[They really, really aren't. In-between their giggles, the story-telling continues.]

The detective feels the cold iron of the "baker's" gun against his temple and a hot chill runs up his spine. Was this an emotion? Little did he know, Shelly intended to arouse such questions precisely, when he suggested this bout of tense roleplaying. This dangerous game was reminiscent of their work, but perhaps it was only so that Bobby - no, the two of them - could more comfortably slip into their night of passion.

[Shelly's firm grip on the handgun falters for an instant before he murmurs something again - this time, a question.]

What... What are they talking about...?

[By now, it's become pretty damn evident that the fairies know about his little 'condition'. If they keep talking about it like that, pretty soon Shelly will know too. This is the sort of thing he prefers to keep a secret, so he can use it as a trump card. Hell, that's one of the reasons he wanted to make the psych profile disappear. Still, it's not like there's any way for him to tell the fairy to shut up about it without drawing even more attention to it.

Time to amp up the drama factor and see if he can get those evil little moths to change their minds.]

Y-you two! He's not roleplaying! This is serious! Don't you care about my safety at all?! Where is the justice in this?! [SOB.]

[Shelly has yet to catch on, luckily for "Fulbright". Maybe the fact that empathy isn't always his strong suit is a fortunate one, in this instance.

Meanwhile, the fairies are not moved. Love triumphs over justice, or so they believe.]

... It seems this isn't working. [And what IS roleplaying, anyway...?]

[Here's to hoping Shelly won't enquire into the matter, because the fairies will likely explain in gross detail just what they mean by roleplaying. Uegh. The lack of response to his plea is very unfortunate, but it's not like they've already explored every other option.]

Can't we just call for help on the COMP network? [Besides, the sooner Shelly puts that gun away again, the better.]

[Yeah, he figures it's no use. Back to the pocket you go, Luger.]

I doubt it would be that simple to get out of this predicament.

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2/2 Well I hope you're happy now

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