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[writer's block] day one
Jul. 5th, 2010 06:15 pm"I am known by many names among the gods, and most important among them, Hades...the one you must pay close attention to at this moment...is 'the God of Loopholes.'"
Pick your packet of kisses and I will write drabbles involving our muses kissing. Ooo la la.
The Cute Packet
- Kiss on the forehead.
- Kiss on the nose
- Kiss on the cheek
- Kiss on the lips
The Sexy Packet
- Kiss on the back
- Kiss on the neck
- Kiss on the shoulder
- French kiss
Just specify verse, muse, etc.
The Cute Packet
- Kiss on the forehead.
- Kiss on the nose
- Kiss on the cheek
- Kiss on the lips
The Sexy Packet
- Kiss on the back
- Kiss on the neck
- Kiss on the shoulder
- French kiss
Just specify verse, muse, etc.
NOTE: Selene is ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dealing_death and is used with permission and great love. ILU BB!!!
Selene hated to be wrong, hated it above all things. More importantly, though, she hated to be wrong where it counted. Too often, she’d been guilty of as much, and too often people got hurt when she was…namely, people she cared about.
She should have known something was wrong when she could still look at Catherine.
( Who will you run to when it all comes down? Who`s gonna pick your world up off of the ground... )
dealing_death and is used with permission and great love. ILU BB!!!Selene hated to be wrong, hated it above all things. More importantly, though, she hated to be wrong where it counted. Too often, she’d been guilty of as much, and too often people got hurt when she was…namely, people she cared about.
She should have known something was wrong when she could still look at Catherine.
( Who will you run to when it all comes down? Who`s gonna pick your world up off of the ground... )
NOTE: Companion piece to this.
He barely saw the birds and bulbs through the darkness within the lock where his consciousness was deeply woven through steel and alloy. He could hear the soft chink of glass on glass, but it might have been the sound of tumblers falling as he touched them there and just there…
“Here?”
::click:: ::clank::
( The cuffs dropped harmlessly from his wrists and hit the floor, where he sat cross-legged at the base of the tree... )
He barely saw the birds and bulbs through the darkness within the lock where his consciousness was deeply woven through steel and alloy. He could hear the soft chink of glass on glass, but it might have been the sound of tumblers falling as he touched them there and just there…
“Here?”
::click:: ::clank::
( The cuffs dropped harmlessly from his wrists and hit the floor, where he sat cross-legged at the base of the tree... )
[TN] Eye of Destruction
Sep. 22nd, 2009 10:10 am“You know something’s wrong with me.”
It was only eleven in the morning the Monday after his birthday, and already a scorcher as he watched carefully while the man up ahead hesitated over the lemon tree he was digging out. Tommy watched the way his shoulders slumped and his head fell forward just a little, burdened by something the eye couldn’t see. He had his shirt off, and his bare back already gleamed with sweat under the oppressive heat, but Tommy knew in his gut that he was watching his Fraternity brother wilt under a head that had nothing to do with the sun.
Driving the pitchfork into the soft earth, Dog turned to face him, squinting against the light and the sweat threatening to roll into his eyes.
( “I know things, but not what’s wrong with you.” )
It was only eleven in the morning the Monday after his birthday, and already a scorcher as he watched carefully while the man up ahead hesitated over the lemon tree he was digging out. Tommy watched the way his shoulders slumped and his head fell forward just a little, burdened by something the eye couldn’t see. He had his shirt off, and his bare back already gleamed with sweat under the oppressive heat, but Tommy knew in his gut that he was watching his Fraternity brother wilt under a head that had nothing to do with the sun.
Driving the pitchfork into the soft earth, Dog turned to face him, squinting against the light and the sweat threatening to roll into his eyes.
( “I know things, but not what’s wrong with you.” )
be the change (fic for humanmapquest)
Sep. 3rd, 2009 11:48 amPrompt: Tommy the Vampire Slayer
She was a bloodthirsty angel in the night, a dark Amazon protector thrilling with the brutal joy of laying her life on the line to stand against Death. She was a vision of death in black denim and silver, marked with skulls and strange symbols that only served to make her more fearsome to look at.
She was a miracle…and to the young girl watching her fight, she was everything.
( I am what you will be... )
She was a bloodthirsty angel in the night, a dark Amazon protector thrilling with the brutal joy of laying her life on the line to stand against Death. She was a vision of death in black denim and silver, marked with skulls and strange symbols that only served to make her more fearsome to look at.
She was a miracle…and to the young girl watching her fight, she was everything.
( I am what you will be... )
“You have interviews to do.”
“I have a house to babyproof!” Tommy laughed, reaching up to secure the cell phone more firmly between chin and shoulder before picking up his screwdriver again. “I did mention that my daughter’s walking now, right?”
“Yes. Three times.”
Grinning, he turned back to the task of fixing the baby gate his father had dropped off a little over an hour before, glancing up at Ziyah as he gestured for her to hand him one of the screws she was holding. “Look, George, I appreciate you throwing me a bone here and there--”
“Throwing you a bone?! Ha, yeah, that’s funny. Real cute, me helping you. Tommy, Chan didn’t sign me on to act as your press agent ‘cause I needed busy work, you son of a bitch. Right now, you’re the only one reporters want to talk to. I’m surprised she’s not more worried, quite frankly.”
“Tell that stupid PR suit to kiss your ass and finish with that gate, will you?” Ziyah huffed nearby, leaning over to catch Mayilia’s hand before she could wander past them and over to the garage door she kept trying to toddle through. “Bambina, I said no!”
“Oot, Mama!”
( It was the wicked and wild wind, blew down the doors to let me in... )
“I have a house to babyproof!” Tommy laughed, reaching up to secure the cell phone more firmly between chin and shoulder before picking up his screwdriver again. “I did mention that my daughter’s walking now, right?”
“Yes. Three times.”
Grinning, he turned back to the task of fixing the baby gate his father had dropped off a little over an hour before, glancing up at Ziyah as he gestured for her to hand him one of the screws she was holding. “Look, George, I appreciate you throwing me a bone here and there--”
“Throwing you a bone?! Ha, yeah, that’s funny. Real cute, me helping you. Tommy, Chan didn’t sign me on to act as your press agent ‘cause I needed busy work, you son of a bitch. Right now, you’re the only one reporters want to talk to. I’m surprised she’s not more worried, quite frankly.”
“Tell that stupid PR suit to kiss your ass and finish with that gate, will you?” Ziyah huffed nearby, leaning over to catch Mayilia’s hand before she could wander past them and over to the garage door she kept trying to toddle through. “Bambina, I said no!”
“Oot, Mama!”
( It was the wicked and wild wind, blew down the doors to let me in... )
[writer's block] final day...FINALLY!
Jul. 27th, 2009 10:44 amNOTE: Piece takes place during Tommy's training for the building implosion, approximately three and a half weeks ago. Carbone is mindisthemagic and mine to use and abuse.
He had a little bit of martial arts training, and he had the power to stop his own heart, but overall Tommy knew very little, intellectually, about meditation.
Calling his Fraternity brothers and sisters didn’t help much, none of their answers or advice were the same. Too little or too much, they told him, in the dark or in the light, on the floor and in a bed or a chair. There was no consistency to be had. If he had even one common thread, one fact to latch onto he could have gone the distance but he had nothing. He was as he had been in his days as Houdini: living by his wits, scraping by on borrowed pennies and sharing ill-nourished game foraged from the wild roadsides.
He was the one who asked the question, and he alone was the one who had the answer. His brain was the key that would set him free. It was the only key he had.
So he chose a room and locked the door. He shut the lights and opened the curtains wide. The dark room, illuminated by desert sunshine, softened into pale, vibrant hues that called him to the place he knew he had to go. He left no music on, but opened a window. The sounds of the street and the natural world outside sang a soothing melody as he moved to the center of the room.
Stretching his arms out on either side, he sank down slowly and shut his eyes. The old, familiar burn came, slow and steady as the minutes passed...he kept his shoulders loose and didn't fight it. It had been years since he'd held a square horse stance for so long, but the muscles were still strong and the body remembered where to banish the pain. It still felt right, familiar.
( ..... )
mindisthemagic and mine to use and abuse.He had a little bit of martial arts training, and he had the power to stop his own heart, but overall Tommy knew very little, intellectually, about meditation.
Calling his Fraternity brothers and sisters didn’t help much, none of their answers or advice were the same. Too little or too much, they told him, in the dark or in the light, on the floor and in a bed or a chair. There was no consistency to be had. If he had even one common thread, one fact to latch onto he could have gone the distance but he had nothing. He was as he had been in his days as Houdini: living by his wits, scraping by on borrowed pennies and sharing ill-nourished game foraged from the wild roadsides.
He was the one who asked the question, and he alone was the one who had the answer. His brain was the key that would set him free. It was the only key he had.
So he chose a room and locked the door. He shut the lights and opened the curtains wide. The dark room, illuminated by desert sunshine, softened into pale, vibrant hues that called him to the place he knew he had to go. He left no music on, but opened a window. The sounds of the street and the natural world outside sang a soothing melody as he moved to the center of the room.
Stretching his arms out on either side, he sank down slowly and shut his eyes. The old, familiar burn came, slow and steady as the minutes passed...he kept his shoulders loose and didn't fight it. It had been years since he'd held a square horse stance for so long, but the muscles were still strong and the body remembered where to banish the pain. It still felt right, familiar.
( ..... )
[charloft] (THURS) Ficlet: Bedtime Story
Jul. 12th, 2009 02:27 pm“Poppa? Tell me a bedtime story?”
Gregory Karras sighed, regarding his six year old son dubiously, then glanced over his shoulder to make sure his wife was far from earshot. He probably should’ve just pressed Tommy to sleep, but already he was six and he’d only seen his first magic trick when he was four. The boy needed more energy in him if he was going to grow up right…
“All right, Tom Tom…but you have to promise not to tell your mom I told you this story, okay? Snow White, Alice in Wonderland, that’s all fine…but tonight? I’m telling you a special story. Pinky swear?”
Solemnly, eagerly, Tommy’s tiny hand came from beneath the covers and linked with Gregory’s bigger one as he nodded so hard his thick, too long hair bounced with the motion. “Pinky swears. What’s it called?”
( “The story is called The Power…and it begins with a little boy that had just that: a magic power...” )
Tommy Karras
Original Character
Gregory Karras sighed, regarding his six year old son dubiously, then glanced over his shoulder to make sure his wife was far from earshot. He probably should’ve just pressed Tommy to sleep, but already he was six and he’d only seen his first magic trick when he was four. The boy needed more energy in him if he was going to grow up right…
“All right, Tom Tom…but you have to promise not to tell your mom I told you this story, okay? Snow White, Alice in Wonderland, that’s all fine…but tonight? I’m telling you a special story. Pinky swear?”
Solemnly, eagerly, Tommy’s tiny hand came from beneath the covers and linked with Gregory’s bigger one as he nodded so hard his thick, too long hair bounced with the motion. “Pinky swears. What’s it called?”
( “The story is called The Power…and it begins with a little boy that had just that: a magic power...” )
Tommy Karras
Original Character
NOTE: Long overdue, but done at last, a little something from Tommy's Snuggle Meme. Done for senseofliberty, who requested Tommy/Rachel. Rachel is used with tender loving care, and any OOC-ness is all my fault. Enjoy. :P
Fairytales don’t tell children that dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairytales tell children that the dragons can be slain.
======================
“So if you have all this power to fight evil, how come you can’t kill it?”
“Because we’re not meant to.”
“Oh…kay…”
Smiling a little, Tommy walked alongside Rachel as they strolled through the casino, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s not what we do. We make dents, chip away at the darkness so the light can shine through. Only good can hurt evil, and we’re not it. We’re hope…there’s a difference.”
“I don’t see it.” Rachel insisted, shaking her head a little as she eyed a blackjack table as they passed.
“Think of it in terms of heroes and monsters. The Darkness is both the dragon and the evil witch that controls it. We’re not the prince on his white horse…we’re his sword.” He replied, shrugging. “We pack a whallop, but we don’t actually do anything without someone to guide us. Pick us up, take a swing…that’s what humans are for. You guys are the white knight. We’re your weapon. That’s what hope is: you know that there’s a chance to slay the dragon if there’s just something around sharp enough to stab it with. Without it? It can’t be killed.”
She was quiet a moment before nodding slowly, smiling a little. “I think I get it…sorta.”
A heartbeat later, she stopped in her tracks and half-stepped, half-flung herself forward to wrap him suddenly in a warm, impulsive hug. Grunting a little in surprise, Tommy wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her back warmly, laughing as he rubbed her back for a moment before pressing his cheek against hers.
“Thanks for what you do, Tommy. It means a lot…especially to people like me.”
Grinning, he drew back just enough to meet her gaze, brushing her hair off her face in a friendly manner. “Believe me, babe…the pleasure’s all mine.”
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 308
senseofliberty, who requested Tommy/Rachel. Rachel is used with tender loving care, and any OOC-ness is all my fault. Enjoy. :PFairytales don’t tell children that dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairytales tell children that the dragons can be slain.
======================
“So if you have all this power to fight evil, how come you can’t kill it?”
“Because we’re not meant to.”
“Oh…kay…”
Smiling a little, Tommy walked alongside Rachel as they strolled through the casino, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s not what we do. We make dents, chip away at the darkness so the light can shine through. Only good can hurt evil, and we’re not it. We’re hope…there’s a difference.”
“I don’t see it.” Rachel insisted, shaking her head a little as she eyed a blackjack table as they passed.
“Think of it in terms of heroes and monsters. The Darkness is both the dragon and the evil witch that controls it. We’re not the prince on his white horse…we’re his sword.” He replied, shrugging. “We pack a whallop, but we don’t actually do anything without someone to guide us. Pick us up, take a swing…that’s what humans are for. You guys are the white knight. We’re your weapon. That’s what hope is: you know that there’s a chance to slay the dragon if there’s just something around sharp enough to stab it with. Without it? It can’t be killed.”
She was quiet a moment before nodding slowly, smiling a little. “I think I get it…sorta.”
A heartbeat later, she stopped in her tracks and half-stepped, half-flung herself forward to wrap him suddenly in a warm, impulsive hug. Grunting a little in surprise, Tommy wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her back warmly, laughing as he rubbed her back for a moment before pressing his cheek against hers.
“Thanks for what you do, Tommy. It means a lot…especially to people like me.”
Grinning, he drew back just enough to meet her gaze, brushing her hair off her face in a friendly manner. “Believe me, babe…the pleasure’s all mine.”
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 308
[charloft] (THURS) Destiny
Jan. 5th, 2009 10:00 amNOTE: This ficlet is based on a little AU bunny that bit me this past weekend. In this piece, Tommy is a transient wandering the streets of Los Angeles. He came into his power about a year before canon!Tommy, with full recollection of both his past lives. The memories of his godhood drove him off the edge, so although he's an avatar of hope, he's a little screwed up in the head and living on the street. Dunno if I'll write in this a lot? But it makes for a darker Tommy I might wanna explore. :P
He hears screaming all the time. Only some of it is real, the rest is just worldwide suffering echoing in his head. It’s the voices of the points of light that constantly burn his eyes and plague his dreams.
It’s his destiny to suffer, to burn in beauty and die each day.
The shadows on the streets try to get into his blood when he sleeps at night. The light saves him, and he prays each day that it will leave him alone. It let him go when he lay in a hospital bed and drowned in his own waste, it tried to take him when disease lay waste to the body he worked so hard to make strong and hardy.
It was his destiny to die, to make beauty and bring life, light to the people.
The Darkness stalks him, and he wants to be weak enough to fall. Two men stand behind him, always, sheltering him from the cold when he wants to freeze and propping him up when he wants to kneel. He can’t stop the power, can’t shake the burden of his own life off his shoulders because it was never his to begin with.
It’s his destiny to live on, to watch his children die and keep the mortal flame burning.
God, avatar, man, it’s his destiny to exist, and half-mad with the pain of it, he wishes with all his heart that it wasn’t.
Tommy Karras (AU)
Original Character
He hears screaming all the time. Only some of it is real, the rest is just worldwide suffering echoing in his head. It’s the voices of the points of light that constantly burn his eyes and plague his dreams.
It’s his destiny to suffer, to burn in beauty and die each day.
The shadows on the streets try to get into his blood when he sleeps at night. The light saves him, and he prays each day that it will leave him alone. It let him go when he lay in a hospital bed and drowned in his own waste, it tried to take him when disease lay waste to the body he worked so hard to make strong and hardy.
It was his destiny to die, to make beauty and bring life, light to the people.
The Darkness stalks him, and he wants to be weak enough to fall. Two men stand behind him, always, sheltering him from the cold when he wants to freeze and propping him up when he wants to kneel. He can’t stop the power, can’t shake the burden of his own life off his shoulders because it was never his to begin with.
It’s his destiny to live on, to watch his children die and keep the mortal flame burning.
God, avatar, man, it’s his destiny to exist, and half-mad with the pain of it, he wishes with all his heart that it wasn’t.
Tommy Karras (AU)
Original Character
