outersunset
in
hp100
Call and Response/Ragtime Gal/Liar's Blues
Title: The Birth of the Cool (Call and Response, Ragtime Gal, and Liar's Blues)
House: Ravenclaw
Word count: 100 each
Challenge: #222 - "Play"
Characters: Remus Lupin
Note: Okay this is totally late and I am sorry about that. I'm not expecting points or anything but is it still cool with all y'all if I post it up? I'm kind of new at this. It's three drabbles, related, sort of movie-based I guess in that they regard Remus's juicy big band music in PoA. Sort of an origin story. Title appropriated from Miles Davis.
The stacks of old 33s, many of them warped by the sun into lazy waves, had sat disused at the foot of his bed for months before he'd bothered, with practiced adolescent disdain, to flip through them. His father had rescued them from rummage and remainder sales, along with an old Muggle phonograph with a noisy crank, and left them mutely outside his bedroom door. Privately, he'd felt insulted, though he'd sat cool-eyed and quiet at the dinner table when his dad had asked how he liked them. He knew what they said about music and savage beasts.
It was the beast in him - not the wolf, but that which lurks in every man, only just emerging in his torrid nightsweats and thready-pulsed jones for the stockinged curves of his female classmates - that had succumbed. The sleeve was what tempted him, featuring as it did a voluptuous slit-skirted slapper sprawled over a baby grand. A momentary tingle of noise, and then - like a startled heartbeat, like a shaky stolen kiss - the raucous romp of ragtime piano, curiously debauched, the sort of rhythm usually heard in secret, in the guilty dark, through a bedroom wall.
The old saying was a load of bollocks. There was no soothing him, not when the moon was swollen with its cool grey rage, not when he was taut with bloodlust and wracked with ravenous howls.
His father had said nothing when he found the old turntable broken beyond repair, its floral bell in wretched shards, furtively stuffed into the bottom of the bin. Years later, Remus would find a nearly identical one on the kerb outside an apartment tower in Brixton. However, in the stories he'd tell Harry, the weathered old relic was always a gift from his dad.
House: Ravenclaw
Word count: 100 each
Challenge: #222 - "Play"
Characters: Remus Lupin
Note: Okay this is totally late and I am sorry about that. I'm not expecting points or anything but is it still cool with all y'all if I post it up? I'm kind of new at this. It's three drabbles, related, sort of movie-based I guess in that they regard Remus's juicy big band music in PoA. Sort of an origin story. Title appropriated from Miles Davis.
The stacks of old 33s, many of them warped by the sun into lazy waves, had sat disused at the foot of his bed for months before he'd bothered, with practiced adolescent disdain, to flip through them. His father had rescued them from rummage and remainder sales, along with an old Muggle phonograph with a noisy crank, and left them mutely outside his bedroom door. Privately, he'd felt insulted, though he'd sat cool-eyed and quiet at the dinner table when his dad had asked how he liked them. He knew what they said about music and savage beasts.
It was the beast in him - not the wolf, but that which lurks in every man, only just emerging in his torrid nightsweats and thready-pulsed jones for the stockinged curves of his female classmates - that had succumbed. The sleeve was what tempted him, featuring as it did a voluptuous slit-skirted slapper sprawled over a baby grand. A momentary tingle of noise, and then - like a startled heartbeat, like a shaky stolen kiss - the raucous romp of ragtime piano, curiously debauched, the sort of rhythm usually heard in secret, in the guilty dark, through a bedroom wall.
The old saying was a load of bollocks. There was no soothing him, not when the moon was swollen with its cool grey rage, not when he was taut with bloodlust and wracked with ravenous howls.
His father had said nothing when he found the old turntable broken beyond repair, its floral bell in wretched shards, furtively stuffed into the bottom of the bin. Years later, Remus would find a nearly identical one on the kerb outside an apartment tower in Brixton. However, in the stories he'd tell Harry, the weathered old relic was always a gift from his dad.