#qbb3

[quillwritten]

Scavenger Hunt Item #21

Write a short story/poem using only the letters in Ian Fleming Bond titles. Each letter can only be used however many times it appears in the titles.

(click for better quality)(transcript and details below the cut)

Letters used:

A - 12/12

B - 1/1

C - 5/5

D - 11/11

E - 26/28

F - 4/4

G - 6/6

H - 10/10

I - 14/14

J - 0/1

K - 1/1

L - 14/14

M - 6/6

N - 14/15

O - 17/7

P - 2/2

Q - 0/0

R - 16/16

S - 10/13

T - 13/13

U - 6/6

V - 6/7

W - 4/4

X - 0/0

Y - 4/10

Z - 0/0

Poem:

Now Worsen

Catch me unarmed,

charmed

to meet you,

gun and all.

I’ll fall

in love

and death,

a breath caught

on the silver sliver

of a knife.

Life inside

this gun

is tough, hidden

deep within gold

glitter top

corners.

Resolve my worry

or

serve orders,

my love

[quillwritten]

QB-B3

Signing in as Cassie, preparing for 007 Fest 2020

Minion code name: QB-B3

Department: Weapons manufacturing

Position: Scribbler of notes, welder of ideas, supplying weapons, support, and encouragement

Fest Project List: 31 fanfictions, touching on as many prompt fills as possible, including completing the tropes table, along with as much friendly interaction as is physically possible. Oh, and perhaps a few scavenger hunt items along the way.

[quillwritten]

ESJQSRT HDIDKI, DB YKU JQS QSJEDIO TNDR HSRRJOS, MKIOQJTUGJTDKIR KI YKUQ RFDGGR DI ESMKEDIO HY VSQY TRDMFY CJHSR AKIE MDLNSQ. OK TSJH P-AQJIMN!

Scavenger Hunt Item #8 - Create a coded message. Post it.

[quillwritten]

Scavenger Hunt Item #69

Create a blackout poem from the pages of a Bond book.

One for Bond, and one for current events, inspired by the fact that the words ‘Corona’ and ‘quarantine’ immediately jumped out at me on the first two pages I turned to.

(click for better quality)(transcript and details below the cut)

Taken from Page 60 of the ‘Casino Royale’ Google Doc

The cards count chances,

fate turned to whispers.

To have nothing

in this situation

but friends.

To tell the truth or lie

which is the answer.

He sat silent,

wolfish.

He believed.

he smiled.

-

Taken from Pages 86 and 172 of the ‘On Her Majesty’s Secret Server’ Google Doc

Now they trace connexions,

worried for safety

and buried

with Corona.

the dead cry out

for life.

Aching and deserted.

You go out,

never mind the obituary columns.

But people die

unhappy.

I want to live

and love

aching for a miracle

to solve the

SCARE.

and still quarantine.