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Lost and FoundSummary: What if getting Rose back wasn't quite as impossible as the
Doctor thought? After all in some worlds there are those out there who
do the impossible several times a day.
Spoilers: Post Doomsday,
AU with mild Forgotten realms crossover
Disclaimer: I'm just writing this for the fun of it, and to do my own
crap pot way of getting Rose back to were she belongs. I don't own
nothing from the Doctor Who world, though I would love to have
my own sonic screwdriver.
He just wanted to be alone, rare for him, but still a fact. Just sit some where
on the Tardis and brood for a few months. After all he saved the world, hell
the whole universe several times over, was it to much to ask to just get a while
to himself to sulk.
Unfortunately for the Doctor once again things didn't work out the
way he wanted, this time it was a strange female who had suddenly
appeared just a few feet away. Just the fact anyone was appearing in
front of him was odd enough, let alone this females appear
The Seven Gates chapter 3Now its time for the action to pick up. I'm going to slowly start to introduce Amon's
back story now. As well as bring in the first Cannon character from Garth Nix's novel, Yrael,
more commonly known as Mogget.
They were coming, hunters, a word that Amon had only heard his mother use
once before and the young boy was sure it was simply used to scare him, at least
until he saw fear and worry on his mothers face.
"You need to hide," His mother's voice was almost desperate as she pushed him
towards the basement. "Cover your ears and don't come out no matter what you hear."
Stubbornly the nine year old boy dug his heals in and stood his ground, "No, I can help.
"Determination crossed his face, which was drawn in a scowl of childish rightness."
"Not against this," His mothers face, normally a lovely fair color was almost white, its
paleness brought out even more by her waist length raven hair. "There is no time, you have
to live and carry on the legacy."
Amon frowned then, his
The Seven Gates chapter twoOnwards with the second chapter, hopefully I can update at least once a week real life permitting.
Robin found herself unable to sleep, there was to much on her mind from the events of that night.
Thankfully Touko hadn't woken during the drive back to the city, it seemed what ever had been
controlling her had taken its toll on the woman. She had even slept through her return to a local
emergency room, and it was only because of some fast thinking and a fairly believable story of
Amon's that there hadn't bee to many questions asked.
The mystery of the bells was also bothering Robin. Amon had not answered any more of her
questions about their relevance, and she was beginning to suspect that even her stoic guardian
was un aware of what they were used for.
With a sigh Robin sat up in bed and pulled her covers around her slender body. True she no
longer slept in the nude at times Robin found that she still needed the comfort of blankets
around herself to ch
The Seven gates chapter 1The Seven Gates: Summoning of Gatekeepers
Rating: R violence, language
Parings: John/Aeryn (established) , Amon/Robin
This is a crossover between Garth Nix's novels, Farscape and Witch Hunter Robin.,
which I own none of, fan fic and all that.
I'll do my best to keep everyone in character, this is my first time to write WHR
fan fic though.
The setting sun was just starting to paint the cloudy sky with merging colors of gold
and red as a car pulled up to an abandoned house. With a slight click the passenger
side door opened and the car gave a slight shift as a young woman with red gold hair
stepped out gracefully.
As she closed the door again she stepped aside to keep her long black dress from
becoming caught. A few moments latter she was followed by a man exciting the driver's
side. He closed his door but with less grace then his companion as he slammed his
door so hard it shook the car.
"Amon, why are we here?" Her voice was low and more then a little
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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