Lorneykins!
Subject: Lorne
Fandom: Angel the Series
Timeline: Post NFA
Challenge: Track and Ficlets
One For My Baby
Lyrics
Meant To Live
Lyrics
Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams
Lyrics
Bad Day
Lyrics
Rainbow Connection
Lyrics
When You’re Smilin’
Lyrics
Cabaret
Lyrics
Smile
Lyrics
I Will Survive
Lyrics
Going to be okay
Lorne drove in silence to begin with. He kept watching the skyline of Los Angeles in the rearview mirror as it shrunk to a barely visible bit of light. He’d told Angel he was leaving, done, couldn’t do it anymore. Fighting with the warrior types was what he’d been trying to escape when he’d left his home to come here. How fate found it amusing to put him back with more warriors he didn’t know. Somehow, he’d ended up in the same position just with prettier faces, cocktails, clothes to dies for, and scrumptious food. Ironic. He was tired of the badness piling up. He needed some good.
When he couldn’t see the skyline anymore, he flipped on the CD player. The music washed over him like a warm bath, cleansing and pure. Someday he’d find Angel again. He already knew that. Part of the fun of being able to read people… to see things. He knew what was coming; Sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse. For now, he sang along with the music, his voice reverberating around the car. The music washed away the past few years, Connor’s abduction, Fred’s death, and killing Lindsey… He just needed a break and then he’d get back in the game. Life was going to be okay and for the first time in a long time, he knew it without a doubt.
Music and Dreams
Lorne walked into the small karaoke bar. The smoke filled air laced with the scent of beer and cocktails filled his senses. Rumor had it that this bar was demon friendly, hence the back alley entrance and as he scanned the large main room, the clientele.
It had been a few weeks since he’d left L.A. The apocalypse had been averted, as he’d known it would be. Angel was a warrior and capable of much more than he gave himself credit for.
After buying a little pink drink, he walked over to the side of the stage and picked out a few songs before stepping up to the microphone. As he started singing, a hush fell over the bar. He loved it when he got that reaction.
When he was on stage, he could imagine and dream. He could pretend that the world wasn’t full of hidden things and prejudices. His dreams were big and although he knew he would never have a large venue for his music, here where the lights were too bright for him to make out any faces in the crowd, here he could make believe that he was living his dreams.
Higher Callings
Things aren’t bad; I have no room to complain. I found a motel to live in and spend my nights at the bars singin’ my little heart out. It’s therapy for a wounded heart and soul, Sweetcakes. Still, I know that’s not where I should be. The powers keep reminding me, throwing visions in my path and objects in my way that remind me of my past in L.A. After awhile, those visions get annoying.
They think I have a higher calling. Funny, I thought my higher calling had been in Caritas, my old club. The guys upstairs seemed to have other plans in mind. They have me confused with my family back in Pylea; Warriors, all of them. My whole life I’ve been made fun of and looked over for not being as strong or as good as my brothers and cousins. Or maybe, like Angel, I underestimate myself. Never minded so much… wasn’t anyone there that really knew me.
Now, the voices and visions are finally quiet; Mainly because I’ve given in and am headed back to L.A. to check on Angel. As if I needed more proof that I’m not a warrior type. The visions became annoying and I gave in.
My time away was good, relaxing, releasing, and cleansing. I suppose it’s time to go back. Life gives you lemons; you cut ‘em up, squeeze ‘em in a little triple sec and vodka and have yourself a lemon drop martini. In the same way, life gives you warriors; you keep them out of alleys, buy them better clothes, and keep them on the right path. How’s that for a higher calling?
Fandom: Angel the Series
Timeline: Post NFA
Challenge: Track and Ficlets
One For My Baby
Lyrics
Meant To Live
Lyrics
Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams
Lyrics
Bad Day
Lyrics
Rainbow Connection
Lyrics
When You’re Smilin’
Lyrics
Cabaret
Lyrics
Smile
Lyrics
I Will Survive
Lyrics
Going to be okay
Lorne drove in silence to begin with. He kept watching the skyline of Los Angeles in the rearview mirror as it shrunk to a barely visible bit of light. He’d told Angel he was leaving, done, couldn’t do it anymore. Fighting with the warrior types was what he’d been trying to escape when he’d left his home to come here. How fate found it amusing to put him back with more warriors he didn’t know. Somehow, he’d ended up in the same position just with prettier faces, cocktails, clothes to dies for, and scrumptious food. Ironic. He was tired of the badness piling up. He needed some good.
When he couldn’t see the skyline anymore, he flipped on the CD player. The music washed over him like a warm bath, cleansing and pure. Someday he’d find Angel again. He already knew that. Part of the fun of being able to read people… to see things. He knew what was coming; Sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse. For now, he sang along with the music, his voice reverberating around the car. The music washed away the past few years, Connor’s abduction, Fred’s death, and killing Lindsey… He just needed a break and then he’d get back in the game. Life was going to be okay and for the first time in a long time, he knew it without a doubt.
Music and Dreams
Lorne walked into the small karaoke bar. The smoke filled air laced with the scent of beer and cocktails filled his senses. Rumor had it that this bar was demon friendly, hence the back alley entrance and as he scanned the large main room, the clientele.
It had been a few weeks since he’d left L.A. The apocalypse had been averted, as he’d known it would be. Angel was a warrior and capable of much more than he gave himself credit for.
After buying a little pink drink, he walked over to the side of the stage and picked out a few songs before stepping up to the microphone. As he started singing, a hush fell over the bar. He loved it when he got that reaction.
When he was on stage, he could imagine and dream. He could pretend that the world wasn’t full of hidden things and prejudices. His dreams were big and although he knew he would never have a large venue for his music, here where the lights were too bright for him to make out any faces in the crowd, here he could make believe that he was living his dreams.
Higher Callings
Things aren’t bad; I have no room to complain. I found a motel to live in and spend my nights at the bars singin’ my little heart out. It’s therapy for a wounded heart and soul, Sweetcakes. Still, I know that’s not where I should be. The powers keep reminding me, throwing visions in my path and objects in my way that remind me of my past in L.A. After awhile, those visions get annoying.
They think I have a higher calling. Funny, I thought my higher calling had been in Caritas, my old club. The guys upstairs seemed to have other plans in mind. They have me confused with my family back in Pylea; Warriors, all of them. My whole life I’ve been made fun of and looked over for not being as strong or as good as my brothers and cousins. Or maybe, like Angel, I underestimate myself. Never minded so much… wasn’t anyone there that really knew me.
Now, the voices and visions are finally quiet; Mainly because I’ve given in and am headed back to L.A. to check on Angel. As if I needed more proof that I’m not a warrior type. The visions became annoying and I gave in.
My time away was good, relaxing, releasing, and cleansing. I suppose it’s time to go back. Life gives you lemons; you cut ‘em up, squeeze ‘em in a little triple sec and vodka and have yourself a lemon drop martini. In the same way, life gives you warriors; you keep them out of alleys, buy them better clothes, and keep them on the right path. How’s that for a higher calling?