YURI SHIPPING OLYMPICS 2024 - BONUS ROUND 2

[a1c0bb]

For this bonus round, the prompts will all be dialogue!

This will be somewhat similar to "Adopt a Line" threads on older writing forums. For prompts, post a line or lines of dialogue. For fills, post something that uses the dialogue, or is inspired by the dialogue. Your prompt can be any length, from one line to an entire conversation.

This round will end on June 16th.

Fills can be in any format, and you can fill your teammates prompts, but you cannot fill your own prompt.

You can post as many fills and as many prompts as you want!

for your prompt post title, please use the following format:

PROMPT: TEAM [TEAM NAME]

for your fill post title, please use the following format:

FILL: TEAM [TEAM NAME]

POINTS - BONUS ROUNDS
For prompts: 10 points each (maximum of 150 prompt points per team per round)
For fills:
First 4 fills by any member of your team: 100 points each
Fills 5-10: 50 points each
Fills 11-20: 40 points each
Fills 21-50: 30 points each
Fills 51+: 25 points each

Comments

FILL: TEAM ACE ATTORNEY

[ghostvines]

Ship: Sasha James/Not!Sasha (The Magnus Archives)
Notes: Season Two, before Melanie shows up

---

"Sasha James" tried once again to type in her password. The IT human had already left a post-it, it should be easy to input…

Another error sound.

Sasha James, without the quotes, snickered.

"Would you stop following me around," snapped "Sasha James", hitting the button with the loudspeaker and a cross through it so the Tim human wouldn't come over and try to help again.

"No can do, I'm haunting you."

"You aren't a ghost."

They'd been over this. "Sasha James" had — very patiently, she thought — explained to a sniveling, pathetic Sasha James what was going to happen to her. Put simply: The Not-Them's victims were absorbed into the Not-Them and made anonymous, the most defining parts of their personality inverted so that the Not-Them could wear them as ornaments. Sasha's lethal curiosity was replaced with mind-numbing indifference. The cataracts in her eyes were removed, so there was no more need for her ugly novelty-glasses collection. Her height — frankly ridiculously tall for a human, "Sasha" thought — was revised so she was now even shorter than the Eye's human. "Sasha" disliked this; she would much rather be able to loom, get a few fear snacks from the living humans once in a while, but such was not to be.

Anyway, of course the original flavor Sasha James was then to be devoured in an infinite loop of agony, like stretched licorice. "Sasha" had liked emphasizing that part the most. Sasha's screams had been so sweet.

Unfortunately, unlike every other human "Sasha" had been, Sasha was apparently getting used to it.

This would not be much of a problem in ordinary circumstances. "Sasha" might even have relished keeping Sasha alive as an invisible extension of her, a constant drip-feed of fear keeping her sane in the temple of the Eye — because though Sasha James liked pretending at bravery, she was merely human.

Now, though, "Sasha" wished she could just devour her victims faster. The bonus fear was truly not enough of a benefit for her to keep putting up with Sasha being the most annoying person she had ever met.

"Well" — Sasha said, drawing her attention back to their conversation — "not yet, for now I'm just interning. That's how it works, right?"

"I suppose," "Sasha" muttered. She knew what an intern was; she'd eaten one once. He'd gone down much faster. "But in that case, you should be helping me here."

"Not a chance," Sasha said, grinning. "Oh, this is the best. I knew I was right to download all those viruses on the Internet."

"You made your computer sick on purpose before you met me?!"

"Only if I got my password wrong," Sasha countered. "Which I wouldn't." Her grin widened. "What, are you jealous I didn't do it for you?"

"We do not get jealous." This was a lie in every sense, but so was "Sasha"'s existence, so what did it matter?

"Ooh, we! Tell me more about your cult of evil person-replacing torturers, please."

"No."

"Ugh."

"For someone who is a disciple of the Eye," "Sasha" remarked, "you are awful at finding information."

"How dare you! I'm great at it! I've hacked into hospitals before, you know!" Sasha scowled. "And there you go with the Eye thing again. Is this, like, a religious thing for you? Am I actually a ghost after all? Is this Hell?"

"What is it your authors say?" "Sasha" smirked. "Hell is other people."

Sasha rolled her eyes. There was indescribable body horror happening to them even now, but alas, Sasha had stopped caring after the first month. "Wow, I guess you ate a literature student too, huh."

"My point is," "Sasha" said loudly, "that you, Sasha James, are stuck in the Known world without anyone Knowing you. That's the opposite of what that author—"

"Sartre."

"—Sar-tray" (it was in "Sasha"'s nature to bungle names, and besides it always bothered Sasha immensely) "claimed Hell to be."

"Hmm." Sasha cracked her neck. It reformed instantly. "What's your point?"

"But it's hell for you, isn't it?" "Sasha" said, feeling the smirk develop in her muscles again. She'd chosen a good face for it, she thought. "A budding Eye voyeur stuck where no one knows her. Look at your beloved Tim. He's forgotten you, little watcher. I ate your life, and no one even noticed."

Sasha's breathing was strained now. Oh, that rush of fear was sweet. "Sasha" filed this insecurity away under "best food sources" for later; she knew the One Who Saw would come by soon, and then Sasha would know she was lying, but for now this might even be sustainable.

"You're wrong," Sasha said finally, her teeth clenched.

"How?"

Sasha reached out. Before "Sasha" could think to make herself temporarily intangible, she'd laced her fingers through "Sasha's" and — like puppetting a marionette — pushed her hand down, leaving a keysmash in the password box.

Enter.

The computer went all wavy lines and a slow loop of some man singing, then promptly bluescreened.

"Fuck you," "Sasha" said.

"There it is." Sasha was smiling again; it was pained, but triumphant. "You know who the real me is. And you hate it, don't you?"

"You arrogant prick," "Sasha" hissed.

"Great." Sasha let go of "Sasha"'s hand; the loss of warmth was immediate. "Now I'm definitely sticking around."