PPC Halloween Co-Write Ending: Rake It In
Nov. 1st, 2011 11:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
astra_auroraAuthor's Note: The PPC was created by Jay and Acacia. Fix, Ally, the Carver and Grace belong to me. Agent Supernumerary is written by Neshomeh and Agent Xanthus is written by HerrWozzeck. Deadly, if anyone is wondering, is a pixel pony who will be the property of Ally and Grace soon, but is currently still in an unreleased interlude. 'Rake It In' was written, produced and performed by Imogen Heap.
----
The last story ended, and the silence created in its wake lasted for what seemed like hours until someone said, “Well, that was fun.”
Immediately, the silence shattered amongst the replies of ‘Yes, it was!’ and ‘Yeah, [insert name here]’s story was great!’
“So,” the Carver asked Grace quietly, “what do we do now?”
“Huh?”
“Well, we’ve run out of stories and we can’t continue the party with only this much light…”
“I’ll think of something,” Grace replied. “Couldn’t you rustle up a light spell or something?”
The Carver blinked. “Well, I could try…”
She pulled a square of wood out of her pocket, pressed a design carved into it and closed her eyes.
Seconds later, a ball of blazing light about the size of Grace’s head shot out of the Carver’s hand and hovered above her, illuminating the auditorium.
Everyone instantly covered their eyes, some screeching from the pain and surprise.
“Oops,” the Carver muttered.
“Carver, can you turn that fucking thing down?” Fix called.
The Carver glared at the miniature sun until the light dimmed.
“That’s better,” Ally said, opening her eyes again. “Yeah, that works.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Grace said, smiling brightly, “we seem to have a party again.”
As if heralding her words, the lights turned back on.
Several hours later, once they’d chased away the chickens, cleaned the punch off the walls, scraped the pumpkin everyone had stepped on by accident off the floor and into a bag and packed everything up, Ally and Grace leaned against the wall, exhausted. Off in the distance, someone screamed, a chicken squawked and there was a loud crash.
“What d’you think made the lights go out?” Ally asked.
“No idea,” Grace said. “Maybe the minis got out.”
“Maybe Deadly went for a run and went the wrong way.”
“Maybe the lights became sentient again.”
“Yeah, that’s… again?”
“Happened a few times,” Grace mumbled. “Bad hazard.”
“I won’t ask.”
“It was a good party, right?” Grace asked.
“It was a great party,” Ally reassured her. “OK, apart from the lights going out-”
“-the popcorn getting knocked into the Coke-”
“-me falling in the punch bowl-”
“-the Carver almost blinding us all-”
“-Nume trying to leave and getting stampeded by the chickens-”
“-that dude, what’s-his-name, who carved the pumpkin wrong, tried to throw it at the wall and hit Xanthus instead-”
“-that sentient jukebox that got mad because we made it play Angelspit and decided it only wanted to play Britney instead-”
“-and Lux turning up with the carrier pigeon, the length of chicken wire and the broken Remote Activator,” Grace completed.
Both agents shuddered.
“It was a good party?”
“It was a great party.”
Grace sighed. “Happy Halloween, Ally.”
“Happy Halloween, Grace.”
----
The last story ended, and the silence created in its wake lasted for what seemed like hours until someone said, “Well, that was fun.”
Immediately, the silence shattered amongst the replies of ‘Yes, it was!’ and ‘Yeah, [insert name here]’s story was great!’
“So,” the Carver asked Grace quietly, “what do we do now?”
“Huh?”
“Well, we’ve run out of stories and we can’t continue the party with only this much light…”
“I’ll think of something,” Grace replied. “Couldn’t you rustle up a light spell or something?”
The Carver blinked. “Well, I could try…”
She pulled a square of wood out of her pocket, pressed a design carved into it and closed her eyes.
Seconds later, a ball of blazing light about the size of Grace’s head shot out of the Carver’s hand and hovered above her, illuminating the auditorium.
Everyone instantly covered their eyes, some screeching from the pain and surprise.
“Oops,” the Carver muttered.
“Carver, can you turn that fucking thing down?” Fix called.
The Carver glared at the miniature sun until the light dimmed.
“That’s better,” Ally said, opening her eyes again. “Yeah, that works.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Grace said, smiling brightly, “we seem to have a party again.”
As if heralding her words, the lights turned back on.
Several hours later, once they’d chased away the chickens, cleaned the punch off the walls, scraped the pumpkin everyone had stepped on by accident off the floor and into a bag and packed everything up, Ally and Grace leaned against the wall, exhausted. Off in the distance, someone screamed, a chicken squawked and there was a loud crash.
“What d’you think made the lights go out?” Ally asked.
“No idea,” Grace said. “Maybe the minis got out.”
“Maybe Deadly went for a run and went the wrong way.”
“Maybe the lights became sentient again.”
“Yeah, that’s… again?”
“Happened a few times,” Grace mumbled. “Bad hazard.”
“I won’t ask.”
“It was a good party, right?” Grace asked.
“It was a great party,” Ally reassured her. “OK, apart from the lights going out-”
“-the popcorn getting knocked into the Coke-”
“-me falling in the punch bowl-”
“-the Carver almost blinding us all-”
“-Nume trying to leave and getting stampeded by the chickens-”
“-that dude, what’s-his-name, who carved the pumpkin wrong, tried to throw it at the wall and hit Xanthus instead-”
“-that sentient jukebox that got mad because we made it play Angelspit and decided it only wanted to play Britney instead-”
“-and Lux turning up with the carrier pigeon, the length of chicken wire and the broken Remote Activator,” Grace completed.
Both agents shuddered.
“It was a good party?”
“It was a great party.”
Grace sighed. “Happy Halloween, Ally.”
“Happy Halloween, Grace.”
