[TOD] 2-D(are): Sing a song
Jul. 21st, 2008 06:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magic_fratboyHis hands were shaking and the cold sweat had already started on the back of his neck, creeping down his body and soaking through his clothes. That’s what it felt like, at least, like his shirt weighed ten pounds with bodily fluids and fabric. It was all in his head, he knew, but the way his hands were shaking was a good solid mirror of the weakness in his knees, which threatened to give out on him at any minute.
The small club was full. This was a test…he couldn’t fail.
Locking his knees into place, he reached up with one trembling hand to grab the mic, closing his eyes. Maybe if he couldn’t see…
“Eyes open, Tommy.”
Swallowing hard, he forced himself to open his eyes. Wide, straight ahead, boring into the first face he saw. It wasn’t as shapeless or dark as the one on the Bringer that had shot him that first night, but through the haze of raw fear gripping him it could have been Satan himself come to claim his soul.
He was going to pass out.
Behind him, the first guitar riffs rang out.
There I was, laid out on a table
Screamin' sweat and bare feet to the floor
In my life, I'd not soften
Things that cut, and burn so often
But I sit, think of somethin'
Scared to face, the dyin' nothin'
See the cycle I've waited for
It ain't like that anymore
When he sang, he focused straight ahead, looking the faceless spectator right in the eye without really seeing him. His heart was slamming so hard against his ribs he shook a little with the force of it. Still, it seemed to be keeping time with the beat of the music, which helped.
His voice was thin and weak in his own ears. His forehead was damp with perspiration. He let the nervous sweat come and rocked with the beat of his own heart.
Where I go is when I feel I'm able
How I fight is why I'm feelin' sore
In my sight, not forgotten
Feel as though, a tooth were rotten
Behind the smile, a tongue that's slippin'
Buzzards cry, when flesh is rippin'
See the cycle I've waited for
It ain't like that anymore
His eyes shut as he fought to keep the notes strong, but that steady voice that commanded him to look, to see his audience resonated. He had to wonder if it was mystical in origin, or just his own head barking at him, but he kept his gaze on the crowd.
Dimly, Tommy realized some heads were moving. Some mouths were smiling. And with every one he noticed, something in him came to life. He felt the music in their blood, like it was in his own, and power. Not control of the crowd or any sort of sudden confidence, he was still terrified and praying for the whole ordeal to be over.
It was real power, bubbling just beneath his skin. Screw singing in front of a crowd or public speaking, or talking to people in general…he was pretty sure he could move a mountain if he had to, should the members of the order ask him to do it.
Here I sit writing on the paper
Trying to think of words you can't ignore
In my eyes, what I'm lacking
Score at face, a ten for slacking
Sign the deal, set in motion
Smaller fish, so huge the ocean
See the cycle I've waited for
It ain't like that anymore
After repeating the chorus a second time and hearing the last strains of the guitar die out, Tommy let his eyes find that faceless spectator again. This time, however, the gracefully aged features of Martin Mackenroy, head of the Fraternity of Light, were visible to him, as were those of every single other patron in the club.
Brothers and Sisters in the Fraternity, all of them. Even the employees at the bar were members, given that the order owned the club for meetings just like this one.
“You did well. That really was a wonderful performance, Tommy. Not only did you face and overcome your greatest fear, but you excelled in doing so.”
“Face it? Maybe. But I ain’t overcome a damn thing, sir.” Tommy admitted honestly, still nervously twisting at the mic stand. “Just…can I go now, sir?”
“In a moment, son. While you were up there, what did you feel?”
He gave it a moment of serious thought, wondering just how crazy he was before he finally settled on the truth. “Power, sir…I felt power. Ants crawling around my insides, but in a good way. I felt like…I dunno…God or something.”
“That’s the power of the gift, and you should know we felt it as well. The question now remains: you’ve proven you can claim the power, and now that you can call it, but can you use it to further the goals of this brotherhood? How will you serve with your fears at your back?”
The guys had told him to expect this question, and given him the two formal replies to use, depending on his answer. Glancing back behind him, where Jay and Mike Kellar each stood with a guitar and Ben sat behind a drum kit, he found no answer there. Their features were neutral and guarded…he was standing on his own.
A long silence ensued. The room waited with the patience of eternity.
Facing Martin again, Tommy drew a shaky breath. “I may live to regret this…but I will serve in the spotlight. I will fight this war in the streets as I was born to.” He paused, giving his own answer again. “I’m scared to death, sir, but I know this is right. I’ll get over my own crap, I just…I want to help. As many as I can. So I’ll suck it up and I’ll…be a magician.”
The smile Martin flashed him gave Tommy more than a sense of hope…it was a sense of triumph.
“A good answer if I ever heard one, Mr. Karras. Study up and practice like your life depends on it…we’ll swear you in tomorrow and begin your training as an initiate. At the end of two weeks, you’ll be one of us…as long as you’re still breathing.”
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 1,055
NOTE: Lyrics are from "It Ain't Like That" by ALICE IN CHAINS.
The small club was full. This was a test…he couldn’t fail.
Locking his knees into place, he reached up with one trembling hand to grab the mic, closing his eyes. Maybe if he couldn’t see…
“Eyes open, Tommy.”
Swallowing hard, he forced himself to open his eyes. Wide, straight ahead, boring into the first face he saw. It wasn’t as shapeless or dark as the one on the Bringer that had shot him that first night, but through the haze of raw fear gripping him it could have been Satan himself come to claim his soul.
He was going to pass out.
Behind him, the first guitar riffs rang out.
There I was, laid out on a table
Screamin' sweat and bare feet to the floor
In my life, I'd not soften
Things that cut, and burn so often
But I sit, think of somethin'
Scared to face, the dyin' nothin'
See the cycle I've waited for
It ain't like that anymore
When he sang, he focused straight ahead, looking the faceless spectator right in the eye without really seeing him. His heart was slamming so hard against his ribs he shook a little with the force of it. Still, it seemed to be keeping time with the beat of the music, which helped.
His voice was thin and weak in his own ears. His forehead was damp with perspiration. He let the nervous sweat come and rocked with the beat of his own heart.
Where I go is when I feel I'm able
How I fight is why I'm feelin' sore
In my sight, not forgotten
Feel as though, a tooth were rotten
Behind the smile, a tongue that's slippin'
Buzzards cry, when flesh is rippin'
See the cycle I've waited for
It ain't like that anymore
His eyes shut as he fought to keep the notes strong, but that steady voice that commanded him to look, to see his audience resonated. He had to wonder if it was mystical in origin, or just his own head barking at him, but he kept his gaze on the crowd.
Dimly, Tommy realized some heads were moving. Some mouths were smiling. And with every one he noticed, something in him came to life. He felt the music in their blood, like it was in his own, and power. Not control of the crowd or any sort of sudden confidence, he was still terrified and praying for the whole ordeal to be over.
It was real power, bubbling just beneath his skin. Screw singing in front of a crowd or public speaking, or talking to people in general…he was pretty sure he could move a mountain if he had to, should the members of the order ask him to do it.
Here I sit writing on the paper
Trying to think of words you can't ignore
In my eyes, what I'm lacking
Score at face, a ten for slacking
Sign the deal, set in motion
Smaller fish, so huge the ocean
See the cycle I've waited for
It ain't like that anymore
After repeating the chorus a second time and hearing the last strains of the guitar die out, Tommy let his eyes find that faceless spectator again. This time, however, the gracefully aged features of Martin Mackenroy, head of the Fraternity of Light, were visible to him, as were those of every single other patron in the club.
Brothers and Sisters in the Fraternity, all of them. Even the employees at the bar were members, given that the order owned the club for meetings just like this one.
“You did well. That really was a wonderful performance, Tommy. Not only did you face and overcome your greatest fear, but you excelled in doing so.”
“Face it? Maybe. But I ain’t overcome a damn thing, sir.” Tommy admitted honestly, still nervously twisting at the mic stand. “Just…can I go now, sir?”
“In a moment, son. While you were up there, what did you feel?”
He gave it a moment of serious thought, wondering just how crazy he was before he finally settled on the truth. “Power, sir…I felt power. Ants crawling around my insides, but in a good way. I felt like…I dunno…God or something.”
“That’s the power of the gift, and you should know we felt it as well. The question now remains: you’ve proven you can claim the power, and now that you can call it, but can you use it to further the goals of this brotherhood? How will you serve with your fears at your back?”
The guys had told him to expect this question, and given him the two formal replies to use, depending on his answer. Glancing back behind him, where Jay and Mike Kellar each stood with a guitar and Ben sat behind a drum kit, he found no answer there. Their features were neutral and guarded…he was standing on his own.
A long silence ensued. The room waited with the patience of eternity.
Facing Martin again, Tommy drew a shaky breath. “I may live to regret this…but I will serve in the spotlight. I will fight this war in the streets as I was born to.” He paused, giving his own answer again. “I’m scared to death, sir, but I know this is right. I’ll get over my own crap, I just…I want to help. As many as I can. So I’ll suck it up and I’ll…be a magician.”
The smile Martin flashed him gave Tommy more than a sense of hope…it was a sense of triumph.
“A good answer if I ever heard one, Mr. Karras. Study up and practice like your life depends on it…we’ll swear you in tomorrow and begin your training as an initiate. At the end of two weeks, you’ll be one of us…as long as you’re still breathing.”
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 1,055
NOTE: Lyrics are from "It Ain't Like That" by ALICE IN CHAINS.
