It Came From Outer Space! ...So What? ((rp with rude_not_ginger))
look up
It was 9:00 on a Thursday evening. Nothing was on T.V., it looked like rain in the morning, and a glowing green cube had just crash landed four meters away from Alice Carter’s driveway.

She’d been grading a stack of spelling tests when it happened. Taking a look outside, Alice calmly sipped her tea and took stock of the situation. It was about the size of an industrial strength freezer, smoking, and had left a small crater around itself. And, again: glowing and green.

This was not her problem. Not remotely. There were people who dealt with things that came from the sky into tiny English villages, and she did not want any contact with those people. She drew her curtains shut, and waited for someone to call the police.

Half an hour later, and nothing. Forty five minutes later, and nothing. Looking more put-off than anything else, Alice got up and put on her housecoat. She grabbed a flashlight and a tazer from her closet and went outside. Leaving about a meter between herself and the cube, she looked from side to side, sighing.

“No one’s impressed by this, you know.”

She was talking to a space cube. Sure.

Sometimes I let her do fun things!
smile like you mean it
everybody's gonna love today, love today, love today!
everybody's gonna

❤❤ LOVE ME, HEY! ❤❤

(no subject)
Teenage alice: watching you
The thing is, we're all dying.

Friending Meme!
listen to me, chat


The More Things Change... ((Closed RP, quitehomoerotic))
look up
"Ms. Carter! Ms. Carter!:

Before she’d taken this job, almost no one had called her that. It was either Alice, or Ms. Sangster. Mrs. Carter, Jacob’s ex-wife, or – most common, most important – Steven’s mum. But now, all day, every day, it was “Ms. Carter”. Some strange amalgamation of her past and present.

Smiling, Alice turned around and waited, while a girl with red hair ran across the yard, piece of blue construction paper in hand.


“Ms. Carter,” Susan said, and it was easier than Alice’d thought – being around children, and not being called Mother. “I made this for you.”

Susan held the paper out, and Alice took it. She crouched down, examining the picture, and then looked up at the girl.

“Ah, so it’s the harbor?” Susan nodded, showing a smile that was missing several baby teeth. Alice pointed to a group of orange blobs. “And these are the animals? Tell me about them.”

(no subject)
look up
This time of day's the quietest.

Six Months Later, Oops You're in Space! ((Rp with morethananecho))
gun, protect
Six months later, and Alice does what she can. She gets up and goes to work. She buys a flat, but still looks after the old house on weekends. She can't live there, but the idea of someone else taking it is unacceptable. She even enrolls in a few classes at a nearby university, for fear of idle time on her hands.

She lives her life as best she can, because the only other option is to stop completely. Even if Alice wanted to do that (which she does, some nights), she wouldn't have a clue how. It was taught to her first by her mother, then her father, and then life itself -- the thing is to keep moving. The thing is, you don't stop moving.

She doesn't forget her old life, but she doesn't go out of her way to be reminded of it, either. She's drifted away from the friends that knew Steven, and towards people who don't even know his name. She knows his name, and that's about all she can take.

Alice has a life for herself. Or at least, Alice has a space for herself. It's one she's made, and it's one that's free of the sort of things that man brought into her life.

Which is why when Alice, while sorting through her lesson plans, suddenly finds herself instantaneously transported to what is obviously a space ship, she is momentarily surprised. Surprised, and then resigned. Of course -- things don't last. They never do. She looks up from her folder.

"What is it this time?"

All These Things That I've Done -- Two Drabbles
how it ends
Song: All These Things I've Done.

I wanna stand up, I wanna let go / You know, you know - no you don't, you don't

Alice sits in what would be their café, if they’d been that kind of people. She runs her fingers over the laminated menu.

She doesn’t expect him to come. He’d have left by now, and she’d have told him to go. He’s in hell, or anywhere else. Her son’s in the ground. And she’s here.

The waitress comes with a coffee and a Danish. Alice glances up, looking for something unnameable.

“My son’s gone. I used to eat lunch here with the man that killed him.”

She gets up and walks out, leaving a twenty pound note on the table.

And when there's nowhere else to run / Is there room for one more son / One more son

“He died for something,” she tells her reflection, in the bathroom mirror. She doesn’t look as old as she feels, but older than her father ever was.

“He’s a hero,” she tries. Her mind rejects this false memory, and replaces it with how warm his hair still felt.

Alice never does the math. There are reports, inaccurate, on how many children were saved. She could get the right data if she wanted, but those numbers do not make any sense when compared to a pile of toys gathering dust. The math doesn’t work, because there is no math for this.


The rest of the meme!drabbles that I wrote for other characters (Angela Montenegro, Jadzia Dax, Stephanie Brown) are right over here!

Drabble Meme!
listen to me, chat
Haven't really done any fic with Alice yet, and this meme seems like a good time to start!

Song Meme:
1. Put your mp3 player on shuffle and take the first 25 songs it gives you.
2. Link to the lyrics.
3. Let your friends assign you a song and character(s) to write a drabble to.

My list of songs and characters are over here!

Some News ((Jack and Alice, 1999))
you and me, look down
She'd called him, and he'd answered. He always did. Alice's relationship with her father was complicated, but it always boiled down to that. When she called, he came. Maybe just for a minute, just for ten, but he was still there. It was more than some daughters had.

And when he came, he looked the same as he always did. She was the one who got older. As the years went by, it got harder and harder to pretend that fact didn't mean anything. It didn't mean everything. But it did mean something. Especially now.

Alice sat in the booth of a diner that she'd come to think of "theirs". Her's and Jack's. Her's and (on those days when she let herself think it) Dad's. It was the same diner they'd gone to when she'd first approached him as a teenager, with a page of homework questions in hand. They didn't always meet there, but it was still something of a constant.

Alice rested her fingers lightly on her stomach, though it was still far too early on for there to be any swelling. All she had to show for the pregnancy so far wer constant morning sickness and an awkward proposal. Sitting up in her chair slightly, she took a deep breath, and waited for Jack to arrive.

She had to tell him that he wasn't going to be a grandfather.


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