Ten songs thing
May. 18th, 2008 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catkoSaw this in several places. Since this is my first foray, I thought something short and structured would be good to start. Kinda weak, but I swore not to edit.
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it’s over. No lingering!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
Fandoms = BSG, Dexter, Reaper, Angel, Buffy
Disclaimer = Don’t own anything.
Rating = PG
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it’s over. No lingering!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
Fandoms = BSG, Dexter, Reaper, Angel, Buffy
Disclaimer = Don’t own anything.
Rating = PG
Fall to Pieces (Velvet Revolver)
So much space between us. She dropped down into death, then rose up. To Lee. Never to me. But now, we’re close. Sweating, stringy, almost insane. Can I be human enough to defend her? Because I believe in her, more than myself. The self I don’t know. No, don’t let this--, draw your gun, draw your gun. Screaming.
Silence is Golden (the Tremeloes)
You love her, or rather, the life she represents. Normalcy. Never thought you could have it. Sticky kids, doughnuts, running in the grass. “Mind your business, don’t hurt her, you fool.” But your eyes still see.
What’s Going On (Marvin Gaye)
“Only Love Can Conquer Hate.” A luxury they can’t afford. Been at war for—how long now? Forever, this lifetime. The end is within grasp, for one of them, anyway. But here, in this room, warm light, cold steel. He strokes her head, slips off the scarf, smooths skin. She falls back, gasping softly.
Welcome to Paradise (Green Day)
Sure, life was normal, before. Fill the boredom with videogames, beer, pranks, and a longing for something—someone—more. Be careful what you wish for, huh? Some of the fights have been cool. Car chase, if only Andi hadn’t been hurt. The chainsaw to the Caddy—can still feel the buzz in my bones. And knowing I’m ridding the world of evil, yeah, that’s awesome. Anyway, accepting my fate makes my life easier.
Bennie and the Jets (Elton John)
Innnteresting song choice. Who’da thought he’d pick this? It is a fave among certain types of demons—not that there’s anything wrong with that. But this guy…tall, dark, and hoodlum? Mmmm, he hit that falsetto nicely—uh-oh. All right, Mr. Gunn. Come ‘ere and let me tell you what I saw. Your fate.
Werewolves of London
Used to dig Warren Zevon. Not really my kind of music, but his intelligence. Irony guy. But now, can’t listen to it, not since, you know.
One Toke over the Line (Brewer and Shipley)
“Man, the 70s must have been great. Everyone getting wasted and singing about it. Panama Red, Cheech and Chong. The good old days…like my dad used to say.”
“Well we’re almost out, Sock, so you’d better call your dad to get some more.”
In Between Days (The Cure) Still, when she walks down a dark street, she’ll see a flicker in the shadows. Think about pulling out a mirror to not see his reflection.
Reefer Man (Cab Calloway)
Reedy voice, blary horns, hyped-up, quivery. In the ship? The ship? Is singing, a song, from long ago. Press your ear against the bulkhead, your eyes blur.
White Man (in Hammersmith Palais)—the Clash
Huh. Who’d want to see the end of a world where this exists? Not me, mate. Joe Strummer, a bit of aggro, a warm pint? Yeah, good to be home.
So much space between us. She dropped down into death, then rose up. To Lee. Never to me. But now, we’re close. Sweating, stringy, almost insane. Can I be human enough to defend her? Because I believe in her, more than myself. The self I don’t know. No, don’t let this--, draw your gun, draw your gun. Screaming.
Silence is Golden (the Tremeloes)
You love her, or rather, the life she represents. Normalcy. Never thought you could have it. Sticky kids, doughnuts, running in the grass. “Mind your business, don’t hurt her, you fool.” But your eyes still see.
What’s Going On (Marvin Gaye)
“Only Love Can Conquer Hate.” A luxury they can’t afford. Been at war for—how long now? Forever, this lifetime. The end is within grasp, for one of them, anyway. But here, in this room, warm light, cold steel. He strokes her head, slips off the scarf, smooths skin. She falls back, gasping softly.
Welcome to Paradise (Green Day)
Sure, life was normal, before. Fill the boredom with videogames, beer, pranks, and a longing for something—someone—more. Be careful what you wish for, huh? Some of the fights have been cool. Car chase, if only Andi hadn’t been hurt. The chainsaw to the Caddy—can still feel the buzz in my bones. And knowing I’m ridding the world of evil, yeah, that’s awesome. Anyway, accepting my fate makes my life easier.
Bennie and the Jets (Elton John)
Innnteresting song choice. Who’da thought he’d pick this? It is a fave among certain types of demons—not that there’s anything wrong with that. But this guy…tall, dark, and hoodlum? Mmmm, he hit that falsetto nicely—uh-oh. All right, Mr. Gunn. Come ‘ere and let me tell you what I saw. Your fate.
Werewolves of London
Used to dig Warren Zevon. Not really my kind of music, but his intelligence. Irony guy. But now, can’t listen to it, not since, you know.
One Toke over the Line (Brewer and Shipley)
“Man, the 70s must have been great. Everyone getting wasted and singing about it. Panama Red, Cheech and Chong. The good old days…like my dad used to say.”
“Well we’re almost out, Sock, so you’d better call your dad to get some more.”
In Between Days (The Cure) Still, when she walks down a dark street, she’ll see a flicker in the shadows. Think about pulling out a mirror to not see his reflection.
Reefer Man (Cab Calloway)
Reedy voice, blary horns, hyped-up, quivery. In the ship? The ship? Is singing, a song, from long ago. Press your ear against the bulkhead, your eyes blur.
White Man (in Hammersmith Palais)—the Clash
Huh. Who’d want to see the end of a world where this exists? Not me, mate. Joe Strummer, a bit of aggro, a warm pint? Yeah, good to be home.
Tags:
