Icon Drabble Prompts

[tidal_race]

Ok, so I'm going to try something to get my creative juices flowing. Leave me an icon and I'll write you drabblish response in the comments. The first five prompts(if I even get that many)will definetly get answered.

Comments

[irony-rocks.livejournal.com]

heh. I couldn't help it. If you can't do this one, I totally understand. I'll give you another icon easily (I've got over a hundred.) This was just too amusing not to try. :P

[tidal_race]

*raises eyebrow* I think that should be left to someone better versed in crack than I.

[irony-rocks.livejournal.com]

Figure as much. How about this one?

[tidal_race]

Okay, so I will be getting to your ficlet tomorrow night I hope. In the meantime...*hugs* I replied to your post on your lj about how you're life is...I forgot to say one thing...don't stress about the writing...don't force it(unless it feels like that's what you need to do) Just do what you feel. Write what you feel, and if all that is is grief right now, then that's okay. Writing is such a personal art, an extension of yourself, that it reflects who and how you are. Allow yourself time if you need it.

Congratulations on the publisher liking your work, but always be true to yourself and your self expression first. *kind of squeeing about the publishing thing though. I'm happy for you, and that feels kind of inappropriate right now, when you're so heartbroken, but it's so cool that they liked your work*

[tidal_race]

*I am so rusty in the SGA arena you have no idea*

He bled like any man; his body had been torn and bruised; he'd even felt his very life slip away like water through a sieve.

His heart had seen its fair share of pain as well. Grief was like a familiar ghost that danced at the edge of his vision, an ache that reminded him no matter what he did people were going to die, going to suffer.

The one thing that had never deserted him was his will to live. Some people might have called it hope, some might have called it pure stubborn. He figured it was a mix of both, though there had been times when hope had been the farthest thing from his mind. He'd just never been able to give up, to lay down and die.

Sometimes after a particularly hard mission, sometimes after someone he cared about/loved/would die for, had come too close to their own death for comfort, sometimes when he'd come too close to his own, sometimes when he just felt like going to sleep and never waking up, he'd look in his mirror and remind himself:

I am never broken.

[irony-rocks.livejournal.com]

Dude, awesomeness.

Grief was like a familiar ghost that danced at the edge of his vision, an ache that reminded him no matter what he did people were going to die, going to suffer.

This line especially is made of the win. You really did well in capturing the icon's mood!