This month it is brought to you by the lovely scarylady
Let's Have a Mash Up!
We see plenty of lovely DA fics, but very few fun cross-overs - time to fix that, I say!
To start you off, here's a few prompts that might tickle your fancy. Feel free to use them, change them, spindle and mutilate them as you wish.
~ oo ~
The sound that broke the quiet of the night-time camp was like nothing they had ever heard before; as though a thousand golems ground a nick from a thousand swords with a thousand whetstones in perfect synchronized time. The alarm was given by those on watch, but it was hardly needed; bodies were already scrambling through tent flaps, buckling on armour and reaching for weapons.
Before their fearful and astonished gaze, a regular shape coalesced out of the pre-dawn mist; taller than a man, smooth sides dimpled with square panels, strange runes glowing with unnatural light across the top edge of one side.
A blue box.
~ oo ~
The sign blinked on and off, on and off, on and off. It was pink, overly bright and hurt Alistair's bleary eyes as he opened them. There had been a fight, he recalled, an abomination throwing spells. He had tried to reach it, to use templar force to knock the power from it, but the spell had hit him first, pulling him down into blackness and quiet.
And now… he was in a chair. The visor of his helmet must be up, he could feel it clamped around his head, but the light… the light was so bright.
The helmet released him, the chair tipping forward slightly, encouraging him to stand. His legs felt strange, as though they belong to someone else. He could hear faint Antivan curses from the adjacent chair.
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, overly loud and harsh on his ears despite the mellow, well-modulated tones:
"As with all role-playing adventures you will experience a certain amount of disorientation on leaving the game. It will be several minutes before your real-life memories return. So, in the meantime, please disengage the game-playing machinery and relax until an attendant is free to answer any of your questions.
On behalf of Leisure World International, may we be the first to say, welcome back to reality!"
~ oo ~
The demon was a long way from his usual hunting grounds; the Fade here was paler, the air thinner, the pink tinge of home almost entirely missing.
He sniffed the air, looking for weakness, the delicious whiff of Pride that would take him to the thicker, tastier world of men. A prideful man, a good fit for his being; two pieces of the puzzle to slot together and give him solid flesh to wear.
When the aroma hit him, his scaly knees almost buckled at the intensity, but the scent came not from the physical world. It was here, right here in the Fade. Never had he felt such Pride, never experienced such force and power in a mortal. It pulled at the very heart of his being, drawing him to where a tiny, mewling baby lay on the ground.
A baby? This tiny being held such Pride? The demon shrugged. A being of half-flesh, here in the Fade, not a mortal at all, no foothold to the world. But the Pride he felt would strengthen his own, make him more powerful. He must eat this Fade child, absorb its vibrant being. Clawed hands reached down for fragile flesh, twisted jaws opened to reveal pointed teeth. The taste… so delicious, pride and ego and power coursing through his veins…
Lord Voldemort opened his eyes on a new world and a new powerful form. Ugly, but functional. It would suffice.
~ oo ~
Nothing striking your fancy? No fresh ideas coming to mind? Ask me for a specific prompt for you and I'll have a stab at it.