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[personal profile] giefu
Taken from [ profile] futuresoon because her responses were awesome.

- Write a list of characters and number them.
- Input the number of characters into this random number generator as the maximum and generate two numbers.
- Ramble about how the corresponding pairing/partnership/general interaction would (or, indeed, wouldn't) work. Perhaps write a snippet/one-sentence fic for it if you're feeling brave.
- Repeat to your heart's content.

9/6 Sokka (Avatar: The Last Airbender)/ Chuck (Chuck)

"And this is..." Sokka squinted at the strange black metal box in front of him with the kind of intensity usually only reserved for war machines and Suki.

"A television." explained Chuck, scrabbling around behind the back to get all of the cables connected. "Connected to an Xbox 360-" he indicated the other, smaller, white box with a glowing green ring on the front. "-And playing a video game." He concluded triumphantly, as the television's screen lit up and Sokka's jaw dropped. "Seriously, I can't believe you're, what, seventeen?"

Sokka nodded in mute agreement.

"And you've never played a single video game. It's practically criminal."

"That screen-" Sokka stammered, coming right up to the screen and putting his hand on it. "That's incredible."

"Uh, I'd rather you didn't touch-" Chuck started, but he was interrupted by a flood of questions.

"How does it work? Does it have a candle inside? Do you have to turn a handle to keep it going? What power does it use? Does everyone-"

"Whoa!" Chuck laughed, holding his hands up. "One question at a time! And please, save them for after you've seen a little game I like to call Halo."

Sokka watched, as close to the television as his eyes would let him, for an hour. Then he asked to have a go. Then it was Chuck's turn to stare in disbelief.

I kind of love this idea- It would be a perfect storm of nerdiness! And you know that Sokka could kick ass at any computer/video game, ever.

3/7 Canada (Axis Powers: Hetalia)/Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Canada stares at the boy. It isn't just that the kid seems woefully under-prepared for winter- his clothes are well made, but thin, although the cold doesn't seem to be affecting him in the slightest- but that a huge, ugly scar covers half his face, robbing him of an eyebrow and extending from mid-cheek up into his hairline.

"And your dad did that to you?" he asks, simply because some things are too big to get your head around on the first try.

The boy looks away, and there's a long silence where Canada curses himself for being so insensitive- of course he didn't want to talk about it, of course he's going to clam up the second you ask anything-

"I got off lightly." he mumbles, suddenly, crossing his arms and snorting a little fire (and Matthew will never get used to that, even if it does seem the handiest way of warming up ever). "He did much worse."

"Geez." Canada says, not knowing any word that wouldn't sound incredibly inadequate. "Family, huh?"

"You should meet my sister." The boy snorts. "She's always got to be the best, the first, the fastest. She thinks that she knows everything about everything. Sometimes," he sighs, and it seems to come from deep inside him, "I think that my father would have been happier to just forget that I even existed and concentrate on her."

Matthew looks out into the snow. "I can relate." he replies, simply.

Hum. I'm not sure about this one? But it was interesting to have a go at, and I do like writing Canada.

2/8 America (Axis Powers: Hetalia)/The Doctor (Doctor Who)

The yearly visits to England's house had become something of a tradition for the Doctor. He could catch up on what England and his family had been doing- Wales was an especial concern- and England could find out about the latest galactic terrors that the Doctor had dispatched. When you are immortal, you treasure the contacts that won't be wiped in eighty or so years' time.

So it was a disappointment to say the least when the Doctor knocked on the door of England's house and was greeted by an entirely different man- much younger, with tidier hair and wire-framed spectacles framing sky-blue eyes.

"Hi." The Doctor grinned, giving the man a little wave. "Is Arthur Kirkland there?"

"Artie's out." he drawled, leaning on the door. "Can I take a message?"

Ah. Thought the Doctor, listening to the accent, and his fingers itched for his sonic screwdriver. "I'm happy to wait." he said aloud, still smiling. "I'm guessing you're... America, right?"

"Yup." replied the younger man, his eyes betraying only the slightest hint of surprise. "Alfred F. Jones, better known as the United States of America, at your service. And you-" he stopped leaning on the door and leaned forward. "You must be that Doctor that England talks about all the time. Not that I see you that often. I thought that you were supposed to be in the galaxy-saving business, huh?"

"The galaxy, specifically the bit that concerns Cardiff." the Doctor admitted. "Sometimes London. I was in New York in the 1920s, though. Big deal with the Empire State Building- You didn't see me then?"

"I was kind of ill." Alfred replied, resuming his position at the door. "Economy trouble. Spent most of that decade laid up in bed." there was a pause, then a thought occurred to him. "Hey, can I see your spaceship?"

The Doctor nodded with equal enthusiasm. "I parked it down the road. Come on!"

America followed him down the street and watched as the Doctor opened the doors and stood proudly in front of the battered blue box.

"What do you think?" he grinned, as America stuck his head inside the spaceship, looked out again and then carefully walked all the way around.

"It's-" he started, standing back to get a good look at the whole thing.

"Bigger on the inside, I know." The Doctor interrupted, beaming.

"No." Alfred said, still staring at the box. "It's kind of... rubbish, isn't it?"

BZZT WRONG TRY AGAIN AL. This would be an awesomely dorky team-up! And it would annoy England no end, because, dammit, the Doctor is HIS. It was weird describing America 'from the outside', if you get what I mean, but fun. He's also very hard to write with the Doc, for some reason.

1/4 England (Axis Powers: Hetalia)/Merlin (Merlin)

Merlin stumbled over a tree root and cursed. He saw no earthly reason why he, Arthur's personal valet, should be tasked with gathering firewood, but that was one of the many infuriating, inexplicable things that Arthur added to his duties every day. He was seriously beginning to consider if Gaius and the dragon had meant another Arthur who shared his destiny. They were both quite old, after all. Mistakes could be made.

"Hey!" a voice called. Merlin stopped tugging at a particularly recalcitrant branch and looked up to see another boy, not much older than him, with messy blonde hair and astonishingly huge eyebrows.

"What?" he asked, shedding sticks.

"You Merlin?" the other boy asked. Merlin sighed.

"Yes, I am Merlin, and if you have a message for Prince Arthur, I'd rather that you went through the proper-"

"I'm not interested in him." the boy replied shortly. "It's you I want to talk to."

"Why's that?" asked Merlin, gloomily resuming his tug-of-war with the branch.

Instead of replying, the other boy held out his empty hand, palm up. When he saw that Merlin was watching, he clenched his hand into a first, turned it over, then turned it over again, opening his hand as he did so. Two bright butterflies flew out, red and blue, shimmering like jewels against the forest. Merlin dropped the firewood and took a step back, holding his hands up.

"I can do magic too." the boy said simply.

"So, what, are you here to threaten Arthur and Camelot? Because that's the way things usually go-" Merlin said warily, mentally running through the spells he could use against the other sorcerer.

"I already said I wasn't interested in Arthur." the boy said, exasperated. "Saints above, you're thick. I'm here to tell you that you need to keep at it. Even though it gets hard. Even though the Prince doesn't give you time of day- and trust me, I know a thing or two about poncey idiots telling you what's best- you've got to keep at it. Keep doing your magic. Keep struggling. It'll pay off."

"And what do you know about it?" Merlin replied angrily. "I've done so much and nobody even knows who I am!"

"I know." the boy replied quietly. "And I can promise you, I'll remember forever."

Aaaand SCENE. I honestly want to do a proper crossover with England and maybe France and Merlin and Arthur-confusion, so this was a nice exercise to see if I could do it. I think my Merlin complains a bit too much, though.

5/10 Prince Arthur (Merlin)/John Casey (Chuck)

Casey wasn't quite sure where the disruptive kid in the fake armour had appeared from, but he had crashed into the Buy More like the proverbial bull in a china shop, destroying two quite expensive LCD televisions and utterly ruining the Wii display. This meant that he could only be two things- a drunk teenager out to add some jail time to a day of drinking or a threat to the Intersect. Frankly, Casey didn't care which one he was, as long as he got to beat someone up. It had been a slow day.

So nobody was more surprised than Casey when, as he laid a hand on the boy's shoulder, he dodged and turned and a mailed elbow thudded into his stomach, knocking the agent back and almost to the floor.

"Who are you?!" shrieked the boy, taking up a defensive stance and drawing an honest-to-goodness sword. "Is this Hell?"

This was an appropriate assessment of the Buy More as Casey had ever heard, but sadly he couldn't spare any breath to say so. Instead, he ducked under the sword and brought his fist up and around into the teenager's face, dazing him long enough for the agent to drag the boy out of the Buy More and into a deserted corner. The sword went into the nearest dumpster.

"Who do you work for?" he asked, drawing his gun. The kid was either very brave or very stupid, because he didn't react to it at all.

"I am Prince Arthur of Camelot." he replied, blinking to clear his head.

"Yeah, and I'm Queen of Fairyland." Casey replied. "I'm gonna ask you again, kid. Why were you in the Buy More?"

The boy didn't reply, just launched himself at Casey, causing the agent to fire his gun involuntarily. There was a loud crack- much louder than it should have been, Casey recalled later- and when he looked up, the kid had gone. All that was left was a scrape along the walls where his armour had scratched the cheap paint and a shimmering heat haze hanging over the car park.

Back in Camelot, Arthur rejoined the battle against the evil sorcerer minus his sword. Merlin sighed and decided that he probably needed to study dimensional portals a bit harder next time.



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