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kageotogiLast week or so I asked people to give me themes for drabbles. I promised to write these drabbles based on these themes/characters/etc. with no questions asked... And there are the five I ended up with. I apologize to each and every one of you.
#1
Fullmetal Alchemist: Automail (for Sam)
Automail had made its first appearance in Pinako's workshop years ago, and Hohenheim had had the great misfortune of witnessing the event. Pinako's face had lit up and she gone on for hours as to how wonderful the stuff was and asking how anyone would want a regular old hand or foot or leg when they could have one made of automail.
'Just imagine it!' she had said, and rapped Hohenheim smartly on the head when she caught him starting out the window. 'Biologically run! Do you know what that means?'
Hohenheim had grunted.
'That means it's just as malleable as the owner! It attaches right into the body, you see, through these ports, and --'
'Wouldn't that be painful?'
The question had brought Pinako pause for only a moment and she had shrugged. 'Well, everything has its downsides,' she had answered. 'But it can do so much!'
Hohenheim had looked away. 'It'll never catch on.'
That had been years ago. Now Hohenheim saw a gleam of metal when his son's glove and coat sleeve failed to meet and heard the uneven weight of Edward's steps, and suddenly he knew. Automail limbs, Pinako had said. The metal that could eliminate the limitations of disability and destroy the frailty of humanity. A powerful thing.
"What are you staring at, Bastard?" Edward asked as he swung himself over a fallen log as easily as a whole person would, without the stiffness of a less advanced false limb.
"Nothing," he answered, and he smiled.
Edward snorted and pointedly looked away, ignoring him. "Whatever," he muttered, and raised his flesh hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He raised one leg -- the metal one -- to scratch the back of his flesh calf. No one who hadn't seen the glimpse of metal or heard the uneven footsteps would know the difference. Automail, unlike other false limbs, did not inhibit the wearer. Hadn't Pinako said that as well?
Biologically run, she had said. And painful. So sensitive to motion and weight that it could almost feel. Hohenheim kept his eyes on Edward. Now that was interesting.
He would eventually have to find out just how sensitive it was.
#2
Chicken Little: Attractive (for Lauren)
It was once everything was said and done and they had saved the world from a terrible fate involving alien death rays that the hard part came. Well, not immediately afterward. There was a party first. But after the party -- well, more during the party, when Chicken went to the kitchen to get more soda... THAT was when the hard part came.
"What was that all about, Chicken Little?" Abby asked, coming up behind Chicken.
Chicken jumped, startled, and moved backward, away from Abby's advances, until his back was against the wall. "Ur... Well, um, you see..."
"Don't try to make excuses! Excuses are only another form of denial!"
They were? Chicken balked slightly. "Well... I... I didn't mean..."
Abby interrupted him again. "You just ran off! Kissed me and ran off and --"
Chicken stuttered. The end was near. Abby was going to pluck him and roast him and...
Abby paused. "You think I'm attractive?"
That was it? Chicken stared at her and then let out a relieved breath of air. "Yes," he said at last.
"Oh. Okay." Abby smiled.
Chicken smiled back.
"So..." he tried.
"So..." she urged.
"You... Uh... Want a soda?" He held up the box in his hands.
Abby shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Thanks."
And that was all.
#3
Gravitation: Seduction (for Justine)
"You," Tatsuha said, looking over his shoulder and grinning, "are a fine, fine specimen of what mankind has to offer."
"It's true," he went on. He turned all the way around and put his hands on his hips. Was that a skeptical look he saw? "I'm serious. Anyone with half a brain in their head would fall at your feet and lust for you. I would."
The other man quirked an eyebrow. Tatsuha did the same.
"Don't believe me? Still?" He shook his head. "Fine. I'll just have to prove it to you." He sidled up to the other man and pressed against him. "You are walking sex." He trailed his thumb over the other's lips. "You're probably a great kisser. You have the lips for it."
The other man smirked. "You want to find out?"
Tatsuha grinned. "All right," he said, and he tilted his head in to press his lips against the other's. It wasn't a bad kiss. A little cold and a little unyielding, but not bad. Tatsuha could probably --
"Tatsuha?" There was a knock on the door. "Who are you talking to in there? You have to go to school!"
Tatsuha jumped away from the mirror and brushed himself off. "Yeah, Dad!" he called. "I'm getting ready." Then, giving himself one last glance in the mirror and a wink, he grabbed his bookbag and went out the door.
#4
Anastasia: Dirty. (For Joan.)
"So," Dimitri began, giving Anya a mock bow and a grin. His mock-serious face. "What do you think?"
"It's..." She paused and frowned a little. "A little dirty."
"Paris?" Dimitri repeated. "You think Paris is dirty?"
"I was talking about you."
Vlad overheard and laughed as he gathered up the dog and started down the road toward the city. Dimitri tried to ignore him.
"Now that's not very nice, your highness."
Anya shrugged and played with the gold chain around her neck.
"It's not," he confirmed.
Anya flipped her hair over her shoulder and followed Vlad. Dimitri stuck his tongue out at her back. At least she couldn't make any smart remarks when she couldn't see what he was --
"That look suits you," Anya called over her shoulder.
...well. How about that? Dimitri smirked and shook his head. The things he did for a little extra cash.
#5
Gravitation: Love Poems (for DC)
As a rule, Eiri did not write love poems. He had written the occasional poem, yes: a haiku once or twice at the request of a swooning fan, a quick limerick to amuse his brother, a rhyming couplet or two in order to veil his rather suggestive but joking propositions toward his editor. But love poems? Never. They were bad enough to read; why would he ever subject himself to having to write one?
"Please, Yuki? Just one!"
...and what about this logic did Shuichi not understand?
"Just one poem, Yuki! Please? For Christmas?"
"I don't celebrate Christmas," Eiri pointed out. He scowled. "And neither do you. Don't even try it."
"But Yuki!"
"I said no. I don't write love poems."
Shuichi wibbled. It was a very good wibble, but Eiri had had a great deal of practice in deflecting such wibbles. He simply frowned and changed the television channel.
"No," he said again. "Stop asking."
Shuichi whined and rubbed up against him, almost knocking the remote out of his hand. Eiri moved the remote to his other hand and ignored the pleading and the whining for a few minutes more. Shuichi eventually gave up that tactic and sat back on the couch, arms crossed over his chest and a pout moving across his lips. He started to turn his head in order to turn that pout on Eiri and --
"Quit that," Eiri snapped. "It's disgusting."
Shuichi let out a frustrated cry and frowned at Eiri. "Come on! It can't be that hard to write someone a poem! I'm not even asking for much -- four lines, that's all! Something all lovey-dovey and sappy and sexy and witty and --"
"No," Eiri said again. "I already wrote a song for you. What more do you want?"
"But that's different than a poem!"
"No," Eiri said. "It's not."
"Please, Yuki? Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplea--"
"Shut up!" Eiri scowled and turned his glare on Shuichi. "Okay. Here. 'Roses are red, violets are blue, your hair is pink, and I like to fuck you.' There. Happy?"
Shuichi smiled. Then he frowned. Then he pouted. Then he wibbled. And then, finally, he beamed. "That was beautiful, Yuki."
Eiri stared at Shuichi for a minute and then rolled his eyes. Idiot.
Fullmetal Alchemist: Automail (for Sam)
Automail had made its first appearance in Pinako's workshop years ago, and Hohenheim had had the great misfortune of witnessing the event. Pinako's face had lit up and she gone on for hours as to how wonderful the stuff was and asking how anyone would want a regular old hand or foot or leg when they could have one made of automail.
'Just imagine it!' she had said, and rapped Hohenheim smartly on the head when she caught him starting out the window. 'Biologically run! Do you know what that means?'
Hohenheim had grunted.
'That means it's just as malleable as the owner! It attaches right into the body, you see, through these ports, and --'
'Wouldn't that be painful?'
The question had brought Pinako pause for only a moment and she had shrugged. 'Well, everything has its downsides,' she had answered. 'But it can do so much!'
Hohenheim had looked away. 'It'll never catch on.'
That had been years ago. Now Hohenheim saw a gleam of metal when his son's glove and coat sleeve failed to meet and heard the uneven weight of Edward's steps, and suddenly he knew. Automail limbs, Pinako had said. The metal that could eliminate the limitations of disability and destroy the frailty of humanity. A powerful thing.
"What are you staring at, Bastard?" Edward asked as he swung himself over a fallen log as easily as a whole person would, without the stiffness of a less advanced false limb.
"Nothing," he answered, and he smiled.
Edward snorted and pointedly looked away, ignoring him. "Whatever," he muttered, and raised his flesh hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He raised one leg -- the metal one -- to scratch the back of his flesh calf. No one who hadn't seen the glimpse of metal or heard the uneven footsteps would know the difference. Automail, unlike other false limbs, did not inhibit the wearer. Hadn't Pinako said that as well?
Biologically run, she had said. And painful. So sensitive to motion and weight that it could almost feel. Hohenheim kept his eyes on Edward. Now that was interesting.
He would eventually have to find out just how sensitive it was.
Chicken Little: Attractive (for Lauren)
It was once everything was said and done and they had saved the world from a terrible fate involving alien death rays that the hard part came. Well, not immediately afterward. There was a party first. But after the party -- well, more during the party, when Chicken went to the kitchen to get more soda... THAT was when the hard part came.
"What was that all about, Chicken Little?" Abby asked, coming up behind Chicken.
Chicken jumped, startled, and moved backward, away from Abby's advances, until his back was against the wall. "Ur... Well, um, you see..."
"Don't try to make excuses! Excuses are only another form of denial!"
They were? Chicken balked slightly. "Well... I... I didn't mean..."
Abby interrupted him again. "You just ran off! Kissed me and ran off and --"
Chicken stuttered. The end was near. Abby was going to pluck him and roast him and...
Abby paused. "You think I'm attractive?"
That was it? Chicken stared at her and then let out a relieved breath of air. "Yes," he said at last.
"Oh. Okay." Abby smiled.
Chicken smiled back.
"So..." he tried.
"So..." she urged.
"You... Uh... Want a soda?" He held up the box in his hands.
Abby shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Thanks."
And that was all.
Gravitation: Seduction (for Justine)
"You," Tatsuha said, looking over his shoulder and grinning, "are a fine, fine specimen of what mankind has to offer."
"It's true," he went on. He turned all the way around and put his hands on his hips. Was that a skeptical look he saw? "I'm serious. Anyone with half a brain in their head would fall at your feet and lust for you. I would."
The other man quirked an eyebrow. Tatsuha did the same.
"Don't believe me? Still?" He shook his head. "Fine. I'll just have to prove it to you." He sidled up to the other man and pressed against him. "You are walking sex." He trailed his thumb over the other's lips. "You're probably a great kisser. You have the lips for it."
The other man smirked. "You want to find out?"
Tatsuha grinned. "All right," he said, and he tilted his head in to press his lips against the other's. It wasn't a bad kiss. A little cold and a little unyielding, but not bad. Tatsuha could probably --
"Tatsuha?" There was a knock on the door. "Who are you talking to in there? You have to go to school!"
Tatsuha jumped away from the mirror and brushed himself off. "Yeah, Dad!" he called. "I'm getting ready." Then, giving himself one last glance in the mirror and a wink, he grabbed his bookbag and went out the door.
Anastasia: Dirty. (For Joan.)
"So," Dimitri began, giving Anya a mock bow and a grin. His mock-serious face. "What do you think?"
"It's..." She paused and frowned a little. "A little dirty."
"Paris?" Dimitri repeated. "You think Paris is dirty?"
"I was talking about you."
Vlad overheard and laughed as he gathered up the dog and started down the road toward the city. Dimitri tried to ignore him.
"Now that's not very nice, your highness."
Anya shrugged and played with the gold chain around her neck.
"It's not," he confirmed.
Anya flipped her hair over her shoulder and followed Vlad. Dimitri stuck his tongue out at her back. At least she couldn't make any smart remarks when she couldn't see what he was --
"That look suits you," Anya called over her shoulder.
...well. How about that? Dimitri smirked and shook his head. The things he did for a little extra cash.
Gravitation: Love Poems (for DC)
As a rule, Eiri did not write love poems. He had written the occasional poem, yes: a haiku once or twice at the request of a swooning fan, a quick limerick to amuse his brother, a rhyming couplet or two in order to veil his rather suggestive but joking propositions toward his editor. But love poems? Never. They were bad enough to read; why would he ever subject himself to having to write one?
"Please, Yuki? Just one!"
...and what about this logic did Shuichi not understand?
"Just one poem, Yuki! Please? For Christmas?"
"I don't celebrate Christmas," Eiri pointed out. He scowled. "And neither do you. Don't even try it."
"But Yuki!"
"I said no. I don't write love poems."
Shuichi wibbled. It was a very good wibble, but Eiri had had a great deal of practice in deflecting such wibbles. He simply frowned and changed the television channel.
"No," he said again. "Stop asking."
Shuichi whined and rubbed up against him, almost knocking the remote out of his hand. Eiri moved the remote to his other hand and ignored the pleading and the whining for a few minutes more. Shuichi eventually gave up that tactic and sat back on the couch, arms crossed over his chest and a pout moving across his lips. He started to turn his head in order to turn that pout on Eiri and --
"Quit that," Eiri snapped. "It's disgusting."
Shuichi let out a frustrated cry and frowned at Eiri. "Come on! It can't be that hard to write someone a poem! I'm not even asking for much -- four lines, that's all! Something all lovey-dovey and sappy and sexy and witty and --"
"No," Eiri said again. "I already wrote a song for you. What more do you want?"
"But that's different than a poem!"
"No," Eiri said. "It's not."
"Please, Yuki? Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplea--"
"Shut up!" Eiri scowled and turned his glare on Shuichi. "Okay. Here. 'Roses are red, violets are blue, your hair is pink, and I like to fuck you.' There. Happy?"
Shuichi smiled. Then he frowned. Then he pouted. Then he wibbled. And then, finally, he beamed. "That was beautiful, Yuki."
Eiri stared at Shuichi for a minute and then rolled his eyes. Idiot.
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Date: 2005-12-07 08:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 12:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 08:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 12:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 08:38 pm (UTC)I'm open to segesutions!!!
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Date: 2005-12-08 12:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 11:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 01:50 pm (UTC)noonanfish@gmail.com
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Date: 2005-12-07 09:21 pm (UTC)I like Seduction too ;) Very Tatsuha heh heh.
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Date: 2005-12-08 12:35 am (UTC)A Shuichi wibble is a formidable thing!
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Date: 2005-12-07 10:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 12:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 11:23 pm (UTC)Aaaaaaand I love the poem^^
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Date: 2005-12-08 12:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 12:46 am (UTC)Suguru went 'squee' in my head ... I didn't know he could GO 'squee'
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Date: 2005-12-08 01:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 01:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 01:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 12:51 am (UTC)Excellent drabbles, dear. ^___^
~*Regina*~
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Date: 2005-12-08 01:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 02:12 am (UTC)~*Regina*~
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Date: 2005-12-08 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 02:19 am (UTC)~*Regina*~
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Date: 2005-12-08 02:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 03:57 am (UTC)(Joan says I'm short and undersexxed.)