Stolen, with permission, from ![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stellaluna_.
stellaluna_.Instructions: Upload seven songs you’re into right now, and write a companion short story to go with it.
Mine, personally, will be original fiction rather than fic. Note that, unlike my fic, my original fiction is all fantasy or at least has a fantasy twist to it; this is more noticeable in some (1, 2, 6) than in others (3, 4, 5, 7). However, I like to think (though I am probably wrong) that my fantasy is at least anchored in reality, and that I give my original characters the same love as I give the ones I steal for fic. PG-13 overall.
Mine, personally, will be original fiction rather than fic. Note that, unlike my fic, my original fiction is all fantasy or at least has a fantasy twist to it; this is more noticeable in some (1, 2, 6) than in others (3, 4, 5, 7). However, I like to think (though I am probably wrong) that my fantasy is at least anchored in reality, and that I give my original characters the same love as I give the ones I steal for fic. PG-13 overall.
Hardest part? Picking songs that 1) Anyone would actually like and 2) Everybody doesn’t already have. This was a harder meme than I thought it would be.
Enjoy.
(A note before we begin: The dragonets, referenced once or twice in these pieces, are humanoids with fully functional wings. While they have no connection to dragons, they are so called by humans because of the distinctive shape of their wings. Yes, I'm well aware how cliche that is, but I didn't see it when I started writing that particular 'verse all those years ago, and by the time I realized what I'd done, they were so deeply entrenched that I couldn't write them out. You all have my sincerest apologies.)
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2. Depeche Mode, "John the Revelator"
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3. R.E.M., "Nightswimming"
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4. Cake, "Alpha Beta Parking Lot"
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Jayna had not lost control like this for many, many years.
They implanted the inhibitor in her brain when she was only thirteen, because that was the first time the magic took over her body and swept away her mind. It was too long ago. She didn’t remember it, and she couldn’t have described it if she did.
The inhibitor would never wear out, never break, and shut her down before it ever did. The wires and computer chips and feedback monitors in the wheel – they were all an extension of that damn inhibitor. And she hated it. She hated being the spokes in this giant, cumbersome metal wheel; she hated the wires that snaked through her body; she hated never having to eat or drink or sleep.
But all of those were necessary, and now she realized why.
They had torn the wires from her skin and broken the wheel, but it hadn’t been enough; it took an electromagnetic pulse to finally kill the device in her head. The thing died a slow, messy death, clinging to her consciousness and trying to stopper the growing leak in her psychic dam. But the damage was done. She was free.
The pressure in her head built and built, built like the outward force of an explosion until it crushed her thoughts and her vision. She was aware for a moment of her own convulsing body, too alive with power for her nerves to control; she was aware that she was bleeding light.
And then she felt nothing, and was nothing, nothing but a wire through which a current flowed.
-----2. Depeche Mode, "John the Revelator"
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When Walter was a child, God had his sister’s voice.
The chill that pervaded even the gentlest words, the clipped commands that turned away protests, the placid voice that only rippled when she spoke of her visions – this, he knew, was the voice that had birthed the world and made life where there was none. No softspoken Meridan, no booming preacher, would ever sound like God to him. They were only men, only messengers.
He never disobeyed her and never questioned her, because her words were sturdy and unshakable as Law. Had she asked him to he would have given up everything; he would have cast himself into the sea and drowned. Because he would have done so with the promise, from the Creator’s own mouth, of salvation.
He believed her. Her visions grew darker and angrier but he believed them still. Yes, yes, their mother and father had abandoned them; one could expect no more of sinners. Yes. They – the dragonets, the intruder race – they were at fault. It was because of them that grace had fled the world. Yes. They would repent. Yes. Repent and undo and free themselves from the shackles of sin and maybe, one day, be free. Yes, yes.
It was not until that night when she sharpened the blade, and bound him, and sawed through the flesh and bone of his wing, that he began to question and to doubt.
-----3. R.E.M., "Nightswimming"
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Simon had never known anything but the city, and he assumed he never would. He’d never heard real quiet, never seen real darkness. And, for much of his life, he didn’t need to. Can’t miss what you never had.
Things changed after he and the other Civil Guard put down the rebellion, or uprising, or whatever you wanted to call it. The city began to feel too close and too crowded; the chatter that had formed the backdrop of his life now drowned his thoughts. There was nowhere he could go to escape it.
He had started leaving the city at night, staying out till the early hours of the morning. By the time he reached the river the noise faded and he could breathe again.
He didn’t sleep. Mostly he just sat, and stared up at stars he hadn’t seen before. Listened to nothing. Breathed deep.
By morning he had to go back home, and the noise, loud though it was, stopped bothering him. If he stayed out there for too long, his thoughts began to turn against him.
-----4. Cake, "Alpha Beta Parking Lot"
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It’s at night that Vegas seduces you, with its neon lights and glittering dreams. By day, the city looks like it’s covered in ashes, and the naked desert stares you down.
Dorian tried not to go out in the daytime. It depressed him, and with the memories of his journey he didn’t need any other reasons to feel grim. But Elise worked nights, and he himself was very much a night person. Nights were too busy for anything but drinks and small talk and occasional sex. Real conversation had to happen in the day.
Not that the conversation had gone particularly well. He had tried to take her dancing, just for a change. Just to show her that he could do something else. She hadn’t been interested.
I already knew you could dance, Dorian. So if you’re trying to impress me, forget it.
And so here they were, in the parking lot as the sun set, watching Las Vegas wake.
“You can let me out,” Elise said. “I can walk to work from here.”
“I could drive you.”
“Let me out, Dorian.”
He unlocked the door, watched her get out. “So will I be seeing you tonight?”
Elise sighed and turned back to face him, letting his car door hang open. “It’s never even occurred to you that I might not actually like you, has it?”
“You seem to put up with me all right.”
“Putting up with you is not the same as liking you.” She tried to walk away but didn’t quite manage it, instead hovering just outside his car. “Look, I don’t know what happened to you while you were gone, but…whatever it was, things are the same between us now as they were back then. Don’t make this more than it is.”
“I’d do that if I knew what the hell it is, Elise.”
She paused, and with the fading light on her face she looked more exhausted than usual. “It’s a bad habit. And one of these days we’ll both kick it and move on with our lives.”
“Elise – ”
“Good night, Dorian.” She turned her back to him. “Please don’t come watch me tonight.”
And she shut the door, and headed back into the city. It only took a few minutes for her to disappear from view.
While his car idled in the parking lot, Dorian watched her leave. He knew she was right; things were the same as they’d always been between them. No matter what he had seen and what he had done these past few months, Elise was still Elise and they were still whatever it was they were.
All that had changed was that now he could see it for what it was. And he wondered how he had managed, for so long, to pretend it was something else.
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Deirdre Weaver had not had a challenge like this in a long, long time – not since she left the Special Forces.
She’d become a Retrieval and Securities Specialist because tracking was what she did; over a decade being among the few woman in Recon meant that she had to be the best of the best. Of course, budget cuts and infrequent breakouts meant that all she really did now was run the out-of-shape corporate security squad. Not exactly what she signed up for.
The escape of Specimen A6 was a disaster for the lab, true; millions in damages and an incalculable amount of bad publicity, just for starters. But she didn’t care. She was finally out of the office and on the prowl again.
Of course, the heart of the city was not at all the same as the forests and wastes she was accustomed to. But the process was familiar – every step measured, every motion calculated to be unnoticeable, every escape route and vantage point checked. And always, always, keeping her target in sight, without giving her presence away.
While she was amongst a crowd, it would be harder to blow her cover, but the difficulty of tracking her target increased exponentially. And weaving her way through people and buildings, ducking into alleys and creeping along windowledges, felt as exhilarating as her treks through the jungle in the old days.
Her pulse sped up as she rounded another corner, followed the target as he wandered out of sight. It had been far too long.
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6. Tiesto, "Elements of Life"
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6. Tiesto, "Elements of Life"
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When Nikki found Walter, he was sitting on a hill, watching the sunset sky.
She started to speak, to ask him why he had wandered off, and why he wasn’t at camp with the rest of them. But then she realized what he was looking at.
Above them, three dragonets soared, silhouetted against the purples and blues of the evening. The day’s last updrafts carried them higher and higher, so high that they barely needed to flap their wide, magnificent wings.
Nikki realized she’d never seen them fly. When they were in the air, their wings no longer looked cumbersome and huge. They were light as feathers, graceful, free of the extra weight they carried on the ground. They swooped and spun and dived like dancers. They were beautiful.
And Walter, his single wing heavy on his shoulders, was watching them.
It had never occurred to her how much he must miss it. She, obviously, had never taken to the air, so the thought of keeping both feet on the ground for her entire life was nothing unusual. But to have to give it up…
“Are you okay?” She asked, coming no closer for fear of disturbing him. But he didn’t move, save for a smile – a reflex, really – that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“I’m fine.”
She took a few steps closer, sat down next to him (though still at quite a distance), and followed his gaze. The three were leaving now, flying home for the night.
“My parents used to take us here,” he said, very quietly, wearing no expression. “When you’re up there you can see everything.”
They sat in silence together as the sky darkened and the night grew cool.
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7. Juno Reactor, "God is God"
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7. Juno Reactor, "God is God"
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Nikki knew nothing of these people’s faith, but she didn’t need to to appreciate how beautiful Merida Cathedral was.
It was perfectly circular – the symbol of eternity. The spire at the center, with the three bells hanging at the top, was meant to remind you of transcendence, of the power and the voice you did not yet understand but could. The glass on every curved wall shone as it caught the light. It was simple, but it was perfect.
From the moment she’d stepped inside, Merida Cathedral had felt like a sacred place, far holier than the ancient carpeting and wheezing organ and cheaply-painted walls of her church back home. But maybe that was only the gloss of the unfamiliar. Maybe if you came here every day, or week, or whatever, it would look just as boring as home did.
She was disabused of that notion once they’d returned to the Cathedral and found it in ruins, the glass shattered, the altar burning.
Eurydice had cried out and put her hands to her mouth in shock; she began to cry as she watched the fire spread. Piper could not move or speak. Even Simon, who had made his atheism and disinterest in the faith quite clear, looked too stunned to react.
The only one among them moving was Valen, who was shoving his way through the wreckage, sifting through the glass, calling out the names of his brethren and sistren, dropping to his knees as he found another body.
Nikki, too, was shocked and saddened; she’d spoken to these people not three hours ago, she’d sat in this building and admired its beauty. And now all of it – all of them – everything was gone, smashed to pieces, probably never to be repaired.
But beneath that she felt uneasy and afraid. What punishment would their god demand for the blood of its servants, spilled on holy ground?
She got the feeling that miracles were much more common here. And she didn’t want to be near them when they happened.
-----Enjoy.
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Hmm...well, there were quite a few Mary Chapin-Carpenter songs that almost made it into this meme but just weren't quite inspiring enough for me, so you might want to give that a shot. :)
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I really like Juno Reactor " God is God" fiction. I love how the characters are scared of the idea of unloving and revengeful God. I also like Tiesto Elements of Life description with the dragons.
I might actually do this one too, like pick seven songs.
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Yes! You must do this meme. I insist on it! I want to see what songs you pick!
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Well I am off this coming friday.. I am only working one day besides sunday this week. ( which is wednesday) SO if you want together
I will do the meme sometime this week, because i wouldn't have to go to work, i am still trying to figure out what songs I want to do. SO far I only have 3 songs.
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Picking the songs is the hardest part. :)
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I have to download these songs when I get home.
Mind if I steal this little meme? (:
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And go right ahead - memes are for stealing!
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Very nice opening sentence in two. Danae is fortunate to have such an obedient little brother; I probably would have questioned her long before he did.
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(P.S. You should steal this meme. Really. You should.)
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Muppet, I have said this a thousand times, and I will gladly say it a thousand more: You are an excellent writer. Get your butt working on some novel-length things and you'll be set for life. Not kidding. You have the potential for greatness!
Lurf and slobbers,
Mooser
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Yes! Yes! I want you to do this meme! I want to see what you come up with! Do iiiiiit....
And thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed these little stories. I need to get back into the habit of writing over 500 words again so's I can get to work on my original stuff again
*Little lazy voice: But novel-length is just so long...*