(no subject)
Jan. 25th, 2010 07:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anactoriaHmm. I haven't written any drabbles in a while. And I'm attempting not to get out of the writing habit while buried under thesis work. So, um, prompt me?
just throw a character or pairing and a prompt at me; you know the sort of thing. (Probably best to stick to Watchmen and Petshop of Horrors at the moment; I'm a bit hazy on most other fandoms these days...)
ETA: So these are ficlets rather than drabbles, because apparently I can't do word-limits these days.
just throw a character or pairing and a prompt at me; you know the sort of thing. (Probably best to stick to Watchmen and Petshop of Horrors at the moment; I'm a bit hazy on most other fandoms these days...)
ETA: So these are ficlets rather than drabbles, because apparently I can't do word-limits these days.
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no subject
Date: 2010-01-25 07:46 pm (UTC)Adrienne/Edie, "Covergirls" AU drabble.
#2
Date: 2010-01-26 12:21 am (UTC)*
"I have a migraine." Adrienne is rubbing her forehead, eyes narrow, and there's that fray in her voice that means she's gonna start getting pissy in a minute. Fuckin' A. Edie holds her hands up defensively.
"Hey, it isn't my fault I'm late," she protests. "You got any idea how hard is to get a cab in this town when you ain't a pretty blonde?" She shakes her head. "Course you don't, you probably haven't had to take a cab since-- hell, Cleo, what?"
Adrienne just looks at her. Her right hand is still pressed to her head. And, Edie realizes, she isn't wearing lipstick. She's usually painted to perfection by the time Edie shows up, like she's just stepped away from the mirror. (Blood-red and shell-pink, wound-colours when they smear, and Edie's pretty sure she does it on purpose, does it because she wants Edie to feel her presence here as an intrusion.)
But today her lips are bare. And are those slippers?
"...oh." Edie blinks. "You really do--"
With a long-suffering look -- which, honestly, is pretty damn rich coming from Ms. Intimacy Issues 1979 -- Adrienne turns and makes for the couch, not bothering to look around and check that Edie's following.
Edie's an idiot if she stays. She knows that much. She sure as hell isn't getting laid tonight, and she has a million more exciting things to do than sit around in front of the TV while Adrienne snaps at her to turn down the volume.
For at least ten seconds, she really does think about leaving. Then there's a muffled sigh from the front room, the kind that's deliberately only-just-audible, and fuck, is that the sound of HRH Princess Veidt actually almost losing her composure?
Edie heaves a sigh, and kicks off her boots.
Response to #1
Date: 2010-01-31 11:09 pm (UTC)*
As mornings-after go, this is definitely towards the 'weird' end of the scale.
In retrospect, gratecrashing Moloch's little soiree probably wasn't the best idea they've ever had. The real movers and shakers had gotten lost among the crowd, and whatever was in that smoke-bomb he tossed at them had taken Rorschach out right away, leaving him a lifeless lump on the floor, only moving to cover his face and curl in on himself when Laurie barrelled in through the side door, stopped short and crouched over him to check his pulse.
Dan had been maybe six feet further back when the thing went off, and he figures that it must have been that -- plus the fact he's half again Rorschach's size -- that kept him on his feet. All the same, he'd yelled and tried to wave Laurie away, warn her that there might be something still in the air, and hadn't realized that he was shivering, or that his limbs weren't doing exactly what he thought they were doing, until Adrian's concerned face had loomed into his field of vision.
After that, his memories are a little patchy. He guesses someone carried him to Archie -- which must've been embarrassing as hell, so he's kind of glad he doesn't recall that part -- because the next thing he remembers is trying to explain the controls to Adrian while Jon's blue light and Laurie's yellow latex made him think of angel fish in an aquarium, and suddenly all he wanted to do was go swimming, or flying, only weren't they both the same thing anyway? Explaining that had seemed very important, and he remembers starting to say something about the mechanics of flight, and Laurie snorting with laughter or impatience or both, and Adrian watching him with one eyebrow raised in puzzled amusement, murmuring, "Focus, Dan, focus."
They clearly got home somehow, though, because the next thing he remembers is being in bed. With his head on Adrian's shoulder, which should definitely have been odd, but somehow managed to just be reassuring. And he'd had this total conviction that everything was basically the same thing, underneath the surface -- one that, in his current groggy state, still feels like it might almost make sense -- and he'd been trying to find words for it, and Adrian had laughed and petted his hair and agreed in a voice that only sounded half-mocking. Then he'd started to talk softly, about pyramids in the desert and skies full of rolling stars and voices from the past that came out of the earth and got into you via the soles of your feet and spoke to you through your bones. Dan had half-listened, letting his thoughts follow the words along a little way before peeling off in other directions, in gently glowing golden curlicues.
It had all been very peaceful, and even now that he's half-awake and ragingly thirsty, with the nagging beginnings of a truly evil headache behind his right eye, he's still feeling oddly... well, content.
Re: Response to #1
Date: 2010-01-31 11:09 pm (UTC)Adrian is sitting on the end of the bed, his armor stacked neatly in a corner of the room, wearing a pair of Dan's sweatpants that end just above his ankles, and a green Berkshire Bird Sanctuary t-shirt.
He looks utterly ridiculous, and for a moment Dan is certain that he's picked out the nerdiest thing he could find in the closet, deliberately. (Now that is a revelation. He's never really figured Ozymandias for having a sense of humor before now.)
Then a thought hits him, and he sits bolt upright, his head complaining loudly at the sudden movement.
"Rorschach?" he croaks. "Is he alright?"
Adrian shifts up the bed, and pats his shoulder soothingly. "He'll be fine. He got a rather larger dose than you, and he's still sleeping it off in your spare room. Miss Juspeczyk is keeping an eye on him." His forehead wrinkles. "Not entirely graciously, it has to be said."
Dan cracks out a laugh, only his throat is so dry that it turns into a kind-of painful cough, and he finds himself grimacing instead. A glass of water appears in front of him.
"You'll still be dehydrated," Adrian tells him, as he's sipping it gratefully, "And you'll likely be too tired to be of any use this evening. You should rest a little more. Go back to sleep."
Dan sets the water glass back down on his bedside table, and nods groggily. Adrian's hand is on his shoulder again, but he doesn't shrug it off. It's actually kind of comforting.
Maybe it's that weird, druggy contentment that hasn't quite evaporated yet, or maybe it's just relief at having a friend around while he isn't in full control of his faculties. But... yeah. Comforting.
He shuts his eyes.
Re: Response to #1
Date: 2010-02-04 07:17 am (UTC)I'd love to hear Laurie's take on how she got stuck with looking after Rorschach in all of this. XD
Re: Response to #1
Date: 2010-02-04 08:54 am (UTC)would be so earnest when high as a kite
Ohyes! This was actually kind of inspired by a KM prompt from a while back, too. That one contained the image of Dan sprawling around in the nude, talking to Archie, which is rather awesome but I just couldn't figure out a way to get it in here.
Re: Response to #1
Date: 2010-02-04 12:47 pm (UTC):DDD I remember that prompt! It was so cute, and I'm so glad it ended up getting some love, in spirit. (Someone does still need to write Adrian getting high and talking to Egyptian gods, too.)
Re: Response to #1
Date: 2010-02-04 06:21 pm (UTC)(Someone does still need to write Adrian getting high and talking to Egyptian gods, too.)
Yes. Yes they do. (And if I didn't know you've been busy of late, I would be nominating you right now. :-p)
Re: Response to #1
Date: 2010-02-04 06:33 pm (UTC)Yes. Yes they do. (And if I didn't know you've been busy of late, I would be nominating you right now. :-p)
Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence! But yeah, other wackiness has rather consumed me of late. I do still have the Very Egyptian fic that I need to dust off and finish, sometime within the next decade. :-P
Re: Response to #1
Date: 2010-02-04 06:37 pm (UTC)Is it secretive Tudor wackiness? :-p (Very Egyptian fic sounds awesome, though... I shall look forward to it, whenever it emerges. ;))
Re: Response to #1
Date: 2010-02-04 06:45 pm (UTC)Re: Response to #1
Date: 2010-02-04 06:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-25 08:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-27 08:36 pm (UTC)*
You wait.
You don't write, although the pseudonyms are laughably obvious and the address easy to find, and you don't call. To do so would speak of a need, would appear desperate, and desperation is not something you have ever been known to feel.
But you can wait. Expect, no. But wait.
Because didn't he always come back, before? Even when you hurt him, even when you meant it? Came back, and it hardly mattered whether for a kiss or a fist to the jaw. It will not matter this time, either.
So you wait.
Thirty years later you are still waiting. The hours pass (too quickly or too slowly; you cannot decide which) marked only by the beep of the monitor and the careful tread of the nurses, and no merciful shadow appears. And you know, at last, that of all the endings you have ever envisaged, this is the one that's real.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-27 10:07 pm (UTC)Even when you hurt him, even when you meant it? - Oh, Adrian. Oh, Dan. I love that there is so much said about their relationship - and particularly Dan, considering he's not even here - in such a short fic. And that last line...it is going to stick. Brutal. Thank you so much, I love this.
Agh, I just can't get over how much this says about Adrian, and what he expected and what he wanted and what he lost.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-27 10:47 pm (UTC)It kills me, but realistically I think this probably is the way they'd end up, what with Adrian being so 'I don't need anyone, I'm on a higher plane' (well, and the whole mass murder thing too, obviously.)
no subject
Date: 2010-01-25 10:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 12:12 am (UTC)*
Daniel has never exactly liked opera. It all seems so stylized and overblown, and all the time the singers spend swooning over people they've only just met seems like... well, a waste, really. Even the stories that he might be inspired by, if they were told with fewer grand gestures and soaring crescendos, just seem ridiculous. The characters in them aren't the slightest bit like real people. He guesses he just doesn't get the appeal.
He likes it even less than usual tonight. The show hasn't even started, and he's already sweating in the crowded auditorium. His suit is too stiff and heavy, and the gardenia buttonhole his mother insisted on keeps falling out. He's trying desperately to jam the damned thing back in when her elbow jabs him sharply in the rips.
"Just look at young Laurel," she says, and Dan knows he's meant to catch the reproving note in her voice. "So beautiful. Of course, she's engaged to Doctor Osterman now." A sigh. "Pity about that dress, though. Canary yellow! I imagine her mother picked it out, the old..."
Dan opens his mouth to protest that Mrs. Schexnayder is actually a really nice lady, if you only give her a chance, but he doesn't get the opportunity, because his mother never finishes her sentence. She's staring, open-mouthed, into the box opposite them -- Mr. Gardner's, he thinks. Then she turns to the plump, brocaded dowager seated on her left, and grabs her arm.
"Mary!" she exclaims, in hushed tones. "I do believe that's Adrian Veidt."
Mrs. Norton blinks in surprise, then squints across the auditorium. "Back in town? And after that dreadful business with his parents?"
"Don't |look," Dan's mother hisses. "I know nothing was every proved, one way or the other. But I must say, I'm shocked."
"The nerve of it," Mrs. Norton agrees. "I heard that he gave away the inheritance and made the money back some other way. Married a French noblewoman and made off with her fortune." Her brow furrows. "Either that or black magic. I can't quite remember."
"Noblewoman?" Dan's mother scoffs. "I heard that he's-- well." Her gaze flicks upwards, taking in Countess Zandt's box: the countess's lean, black-clad figure (Trousers! At the opera! The very thought!) slouched against the wall, a plume of smoke issuing from the pipe in her hand, and Mrs. De Carlo's eldest daughter, dressed in white, hanging on every word that passes her plum-red lips. "You know what I mean."
Even though he's determinedly not staring at the party opposite them (he's going to have to apologize to Mr. Gardner afterwards) Dan can't resist a peek out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't know quite what he's expecting -- some mustachioed from a sensation novel, perhaps -- but all he can see is a pale, handsome young man, wearing an admittedly rather noticeable purple jacket and smiling mildly at something Mr. Lewis is saying. And that in itself is enough to elicit a small twinge of admiration. It takes patience.
Dan's never met this Veidt person before, but he's already starting to feel sorry for the poor man. New York society can be stifling; he's been planning his own escape for at least the last year. Even now, Mrs. Norton's elbowing her nearest neighbour, and they're going through the same pretending-not-to-stare charade. It'd be funny if it wasn't so damn embarrassing.
Suddenly, Dan starts to feel like he's going to suffocate. Then the lights go mercifully down, and the applause rises, and he seizes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 12:13 am (UTC)"I don't believe we've met," it says.
The voice is unfamiliar, its accent not quite placeable, and Dan spins round, blinking.
It's Veidt. Standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking the very picture of composure.
"I, uh, I guess not," Dan says, after he's realized that he's staring and then stopped. He offers his hand. "Daniel Dreiberg. Uh, call me Dan. If you like."
"It's good to meet you, Dan." Veidt's handshake is firm, of course, and he half-smiles, as though something Dan's said has amused him.
Then he realizes that he probably should have asked. Too late now, though.
"And you must be Adrian Veidt. My, uh, my mother likes to gossip," he offers, with what he hopes is a self-deprecating chuckle and not an awkward laugh.
"Oh dear," Veidt says, with a martyred glance at the ceiling. "Let me guess. I'm a patricidal invert who made a Faustian bargain with the Devil in order to win back his fortune."
It's said without rancor, and Dan finds himself laughing, genuinely this time. "I think that was about it, yes. There might have been a French wife in there somewhere, too."
The corner of Veidt's mouth twitches, and Dan figures that's probably about as close as he gets to laughing out loud. "I'm glad to find someone who has the sense not to believe that kind of nonsense, anyway. The truth is nearly always stranger. And more interesting." A second's pause, and then his eyes gleam. "Now you, on the other hand, didn't put in a single appearance on the gossip mill around me. That does intrigue me."
"Ah, well, you know. I don't really do much."
Veidt raises an eyebrow, and Dan can feel himself turning red. Still, he'd rather be having this conversation than sitting in there, with the histrionic shrieks of the sopranos in front of him and the vicious whispers of the society gossips on either side. It's good to have somebody he can actually hold a conversation with at all.
Perhaps, he thinks, he can stand New York a little while longer, after all.
Luckily, I love cracky AUs
Date: 2010-02-02 01:07 am (UTC)I love how Dan is still very Dan, even in turn of the last century New York, and how Adrian is both Adrian and the incredibly ennui-ridden aristocrat. Seriously, love. ♥
Re: Luckily, I love cracky AUs
Date: 2010-02-02 08:21 am (UTC)ooh!
Date: 2010-01-26 02:43 am (UTC)Hey, feel like writing a little something Eldritch? ;)
Re: ooh!
Date: 2010-01-26 04:25 am (UTC)Re: ooh!
Date: 2010-02-04 12:33 am (UTC)*
"Glasses, Dan."
"...Sorry, aren't I taking your predicament seriously enough? God forbid that you should have to join the ranks of us glasses-wearers, doomed to hideousness by the ridiculous contraptions perched on the bridges of our noses."
Adrian blinks, bright spots of color appearing on his cheekbones. "Dan-- I didn't mean--"
"Relax, would you?" Dan pulls out a chair and sits down, taking Adrian's right hand between both of his own. "I was just teasing. But seriously. It happens to everyone eventually. You're past sixty -- you've been pretty lucky to escape them up until now. I've had these things since I was eight."
A faint smile. "You're right, of course. It's just..."
Dan squeezes his hand. "I get it," he says, and he thinks he does. Adrian's accepted the gray hair and the jokes at birthday gatherings with good grace, but those are different; they're never going to get in the way of his ability to make a difference, to be useful. Not being able to help anymore, though -- well, that's a fear Dan can understand. He still remembers the feeling of being useless pretty clearly.
But that was then. Funnily enough, retirement hasn't posed too many problems for him this time around. He doesn't really mind the idea of being obsolete, pottering around in the toolshed and filling up the bird-feeders and leaving people whose joints don't creak in the cold to save the world.
Maybe it's because this time it doesn't seem premature. He actually feels like he's earned it.
The impulse to make a difference is a tough one to shake, though, and Adrian has it worse than he ever did. Dan never felt responsible for the fate of a whole planet, always had at least a couple of people in his life to give a damn about. Before him, Adrian didn't have anyone to bring him back down to Earth, prevent him from being swallowed whole by his responsibilities. If they hadn't happened... well, Dan doesn't even want to think about that.
Which is lucky, because Adrian is murmuring, "You always get it," and gently plucking Dan's glasses off of his nose to kiss the imprint they've left there. "And you're certainly not 'doomed to hideousness.'"
"I'll take your word for it," Dan smiles. "Honestly, though. You should start to relax a little. Christ, if getting older isn't a good enough excuse, I don't know what is. You don't have to join every single advisory board and council that invites you, you know." He gets to his feet, and tugs lightly at Adrian's hand.
"I know," Adrian says, standing, a rueful note in his voice. "But it's difficult to say no. Where are we going?"
"The garden. You're coming to feed the birds with me, like to couple of old-timers we are." Dan reaches for his glasses with his free hand, and pops them back on his face with a grin. "The world can run itself without you, Adrian. You ought to get out in it a little more. Even if you have to look at it through glasses."
Re: ooh!
Date: 2010-02-04 07:56 am (UTC)This is beautiful-- I love the idea of Dan settling into a comfortable, well-earned retirement, and gently pulling Adrian along with him.
The glasses thing? Mrrow.
Re: ooh!
Date: 2010-02-04 09:00 am (UTC)Though I suspect that maybe he just wants Dan to tell him he looks distinguished. *g*Re: ooh!
Date: 2010-02-04 12:42 pm (UTC)Of course he looks distinguished, but Dan more than deserves his fun, after all.Re: ooh!
Date: 2010-02-04 06:22 pm (UTC)Re: ooh!
Date: 2010-02-04 06:38 pm (UTC)Re: ooh!
Date: 2010-02-04 06:42 pm (UTC)I like to think he has some sort of really old-fashioned study, from which all forms of modern communication are banned. (When dragging-out-by-the-ear isn't necessary, Dan just slips amusing notes under the door.)
Re: ooh!
Date: 2010-02-04 06:51 pm (UTC)I love the study idea! It fits, just books and papers and a couch to nap on. (And the idea of Dan leaving notes just made me melt a little.)
Re: ooh!
Date: 2010-02-04 06:53 pm (UTC)The nonsense is usually stories of implausible adventures had by the cats. They're actually quite good. Which occasionally makes Dan wonder whether he should've gone into writing children's books instead of fighting crime.
drabble-ish thing (couldn't resist)
Date: 2010-02-05 02:51 am (UTC)"Hey," Dan calls. There's a question in his voice. Adrian's been holed up in his study all afternoon, and sometime around three hours ago, he stopped responding to Dan's notes. In hindsight, Dan probably went a little overboard in response, but it helped him resist the growing temptation to invade Adrian's cherished inner sanctum outright. He'll just plan to find the stack of little paper scraps and toss them tomorrow anyway.
Adrian reappears (he's probably just put the kettle on, if experience is any indication) and comes around to sit next to Dan on the couch. "Good evening." His face is calm, but the circles under his eyes are more sharply defined, and Dan sighs inwardly.
But then Shadow twines himself around Adrian's ankles, and Adrian looks down. "Hello there," he says quietly, leaning down to stroke him. "Vous êtes déjà revenue de Paris, hein? I take it the all-cat cabaret in Montmartre didn't work out. Pity."
He looks up at Dan, then, with a smile, and Dan's not worried anymore.
*squeak*
Date: 2010-02-05 09:31 am (UTC)(And I sort of wish there was a picture book about Shadow's Parisian adventure now.)
Re: *squeak*
Date: 2010-02-05 03:17 pm (UTC)(I think you have hit upon the perfect second career for Dan. I imagine they'd be something like the Babar books, only with cats, and probably owls too.)
Re: *squeak*
Date: 2010-02-07 02:57 pm (UTC)*is ded*
Date: 2010-02-07 03:16 pm (UTC)(Adrian says he'll be back momentarily, he has something in his eye.)
Re: *is ded*
Date: 2010-02-07 11:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-26 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-26 09:52 am (UTC)"Dangerous artefact," Kovacs rumbles from the shadows behind him. "Remaining sect members will try to take it back. Should destroy immediately."
"Let's not be too hasty," Adrian murmurs, tracing one of the tiny geometric characters on the side of the box with a fingertip. "The inscription is fascinating. It bears some similarity to archaic cuneiform, but I can only make out a few of the symbols. This must be immensely old. Perhaps from a period of human history... never before studied."
His voice is dreamy. From her perch on one of the old packing crates lining the warehouse, Laurie rolls her eyes. She'd be willing to bet those creeps in the hooded robes will be back before long, and she isn't really enthused by the idea of meeting them again now that they've figured out she isn't actually a Priestess of the Deep or whatever they call it. Sitting around waffling about the unfathomable gulfs of time and doing nothing isn't gonna help them any, in any case -- and she should know; she's become quite the expert on that since marrying Jon.
"Well, which ones could you understand?" she demands.
"Hmm?"
"Which of those--" she waves her hand at the box, "symbols?"
"Ah. Well, this one is 'water'. And I can't be entirely sure, but the one following it is most likely 'death'-- Laurel Jane, what are you doing?"
"One of us has to do something," she replies, marching towards the window, "Or we're never gonna get out of here. And I for one am not in favour of waiting for those Cthulhu-worshipping freaks to come back with reinforcements."
The box describes a tall arc through the air, gleaming silver and some other, unfamiliar colour, one that Laurie can't quite put a name to. It lands in the Hudson with a satisfying splash.
"There. It's in the water. It's dead." She dusts off her hands on the front of her robe. Jesus, she can't wait to change out of this ridiculous thing. "C'mon. Let's go home."
Adrian glares daggers at her, lips pursed, but then Dan places a hand on his shoulder and says softly, "Probably for the best," and he just gives a resigned sigh and nods.
They head out the door, Kovacs tramping along ahead of them, collar turned against the wind. It's picking up. Good thing they are leaving; Laurie doesn't want to be stuck out in this wearing only a sheet any longer than necessary.
They're halfway home when the ground beneath their feet begins to rumble.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Date: 2010-01-26 10:02 am (UTC)Wow. Just, wow. Adrian is never going to let Laurie live this one down, either.
Re: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Date: 2010-01-26 10:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-26 03:16 pm (UTC)<3
Oh, Laurie. Always the straightforward one.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-26 08:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-03 12:33 am (UTC)