drabble writing meme
From plurk: [meme] Pick a number 1-10 (character) and 1-34 (song) and I'll write a really short drabble. (It doesn't need to be 34 songs, I just have a tiny playlist.)
For the record, I went more with the feel of the song and/or the titles than I did the songs' actual meanings. With the exception of Zexion's, because wtf how.
THIS IS STILL A WORK IN PROGRESS, CHECK BACK HERE LATER TO SEE IF I'VE GOT MORE OF THEM DONE;;;
1. Ryohei
BREAK OUT (My headcanon, let me show you it.)
He didn't know who they were, or what sort of issue they had with his sister, but when he turned the corner into the hallway Kyoko's classroom was in, there were three of them, shoving her and calling her stranger and half-breed, just out of sight of the windows teachers could spot them through. He didn't know what they meant, the boys or the words, but he could understand perfectly well the unhappiness in her eyes.
Something burned in his chest, and he balled his hands into fists as it burned and swirled up and burst out of his mouth as a yell that scratched against his throat.
Ryohei was seven, the first time he'd honestly tried to hurt someone.
2. Chrome
Colors - ver. original (The problem with having only one eye...)
"... You don't remember how things looked when you could perceive their depth, do you?" She sucked in a breath, and the bird that had been fluttering across her fingers spread into the air as vapor. She tried to imagine how flat and unbelievable it might have looked from a different angle, and for once, her master's laugh offered little comfort.
"I'm sorry," she said, and knew that the fingers running through her hair weren't real.
"Would you like me to replace it?" his voice continued, smooth and surprisingly honest as a dream-thumb settled against the skull she wore in front of the empty socket.
The silence was comforting as she considered it. She'd see perfectly again, she'd make better illusions right away, she knew.
"No," she said finally. "It reminds me of Mukuro-sama." She felt him smile in the back of her mind, though there was no face to see and confirm. "I'll adjust."
"Good."
3. Kieran
SIMULATION (AU, college?)
"Sit down, please."
"What is this strange contraption?"
"It's-- it's just a laptop, Kieran."
"This isn't a Daein invention, is it? You know I refuse to partake in anything those dastards are behind!"
"Yes, I realize that. They were invented in Begnion; I checked to make sure nothing about it would be particularly objectionable." Rhys sighed and opened the laptop, pressing the power button and setting it on the table in front of his flatmate as it started up. Kieran flinched away so dramatically he nearly tipped the seat over, but glanced at Rhys and settled back down when he seemed to realize it wasn't casting Rexbolt on him or anything equally dastardly.
"It is like the television?"
"Well, it's more like the--" Rhys paused, remembered that normal desktop computers were invented in Daein and they therefore didn't have one, and decided that comparing the laptop to one wouldn't help Kieran warm up to it. "... like the television when it's playing video games. You can interact with it more."
"I see! Then it shall help me defeat my foes with the use of small buttons?"
"I-- ... yes, let's say they are. I've already made an account for you," and here he typed "kieran" into the username slot to log into the laptop, "and you can set up a password yourself later."
A few hours later, and Rhys had taught Kieran the wonders of Microsoft Word and the Internet, and informed him that he could use the laptop to study, "so you won't have to bother that poor librarian anymore." Rhys stayed for a while longer, watching Kieran as he looked up things like "Crimea" and "Elincia" and "Renning," before he tentatively decided that it might be safe to leave Kieran with the laptop for a little bit. Just long enough for the laundry to get done, maybe.
Later on, Rhys was just clipping up the first piece of laundry to dry when he heard a bellow and abruptly remembered that he hadn't told Kieran that laptops are fragile.
"Oh, dear-- Kieran, no, you can't duel it--!"
4. Rolf
Cantarella - ver. music box (Rolf's Bow looks like some kind of plastic toy)
In the very beginning, just after the euphoria from getting a gift from Shinon had finally faded down, Rolf developed mixed feelings about his first proper bow. It was a good bow, light but sturdy, and it was much easier to learn on than an iron bow, or Ashera forbid a steel bow, and even if it had been worthless he'd still adore it simply because Shinon made it for him.
But it made him feel small.
It was maybe half the size of his teacher's bows, and far less elegantly shaped--like a bow made for a child, an amateur. He was a child, and he was an amateur, but having his own weapon as a reminder of it burned in an odd, unpleasant way.
So he decided he just needed to grow past it. He'd get so good he'd never need a bow so small anymore; he would use iron bows, and steel bows, and maybe brave bows, if he could find one. He would treat them all well, exactly the way Shinon had taught him to care for them, and he would be a proper sniper. The bow was his first step towards that, towards being great like Shinon--and it was just his first step.
Time passed.
Shinon left.
Rolf entered the battlefield. He shot arrows and ended lives, and told himself that he needed to. He was using his talent to protect people, and gaining more talent in the process so he could keep them from even more harm.
He was good, he knew, but he wasn't good enough--he would still just be a beginner, so long as he held that bow. When he got past it, he'd get even better, and then maybe, just maybe, he'd get so good Shinon would come back. (Because of course Shinon would come back to watch, once he got good enough!)
Rolf told himself this again when it splintered apart near the end of a battle, worn into disrepair from continued use, but somehow, he still ended up crying.
5. Tormod
Stardust Memory (I love Tormod unreasonable amounts. Also this song makes me think of Christmas, which I don't think exists in Tellius, so.)
"It's too cold!" Tormod huffed as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself and tried to stomp, an effect well-ruined by the snow beneath his feet. This didn't improve his mood.
Muarim's hand settling on his hand was probably the only thing that kept him from trying to set the ground aflame, in fact. "Patience, little one. We won't be in Daein forever."
"Sure, you can say that!" he whined, with an attempt at a huff that came out more like a sniffle. Muarim would have to ask someone to prepare tea once they stopped to set up camp, he reasoned. "But you've got a bunch of fur!"
"Not at the moment," Muarim pointed out. Tormod shrugged the comment off like it made no difference whether the fur was present for it to keep a tiger laguz warm.
"Still, don't you think it's way too cold? Do you think we're being lured intro a trap? Maybe they're just waiting until we're so cold, we can't move our limbs right anymore, and then they'll attack us."
"... I think you're letting your imagination run a bit too far away. If you focus on something else, the cold will be easier too ignore." Or at least, Muarim had a small, bleak hope that perhaps a childish fire mage raised in a desert would focus on something other than snow, and then it would be easier for him to ignore. It wasn't a very lively hope.
"It's kind of hard to ignore when I can't move my toes anymore," Tormod complained, as though to squish the tiny hope that much further down. He lifted a foot and waved it stiffly in front of him, just to prove his point, and paused before putting it down. "Hey! Maybe you could carry me again!"
"Carry you?" Muarim's eyebrows lifted at the suggestion, but he couldn't help but smile faintly at the memory's it brought up. "It has been years since you last asked that of me."
"C'mon, Muarim! You know it'll get me to stop complaining!" That was a very good point. "Plus, we're moving way too slow just walking like this, don't you think?" That was a far less good point, but a point nonetheless. Muarim sighed, but dropped forward and shifted to the sound of a victorious whoop nonetheless. He waited just long enough for Tormod to situate himself and clutch to his fur before dashing out of the marching army and running ahead, directed by laughing orders from the tiniest, most stubborn leader he'd ever willingly follow.
6. Fai
Scarlet Onlooker (This song is way too badass for Fai, but the pizzicato bits actually fit him pretty well, I think.)
One would need to be lightfooted to be as good a traitor as Fai.
It was a delicate balance to keep, to talk without telling, to learn without knowing. It was as though he were walking across a mess of wire; he had to step quickly, lest he fall, and to never let his full weight settle in any one place, lest the wire slice his feet. He kept everyone at just the distance away that they wouldn't nudge him, neither from companionship nor from frustrated curiosity, and always remembered that no matter how he stepped, he was just a tool.
He never reached his goal, never made it to the wires' end, but to go so far out that when the taste of blood finally threw his balance, he was stuck to choose between guilt or treason-- a traitor either way.
It takes light feet to go so far.
7. Larxene
Cry Camellia
8. Bluebell
Paradichlorobenzene - ver. music box
9. Haru
Flower Blossoms
10. Zexion
Mata Ashita
For the record, I went more with the feel of the song and/or the titles than I did the songs' actual meanings. With the exception of Zexion's, because wtf how.
THIS IS STILL A WORK IN PROGRESS, CHECK BACK HERE LATER TO SEE IF I'VE GOT MORE OF THEM DONE;;;
1. Ryohei
BREAK OUT (My headcanon, let me show you it.)
He didn't know who they were, or what sort of issue they had with his sister, but when he turned the corner into the hallway Kyoko's classroom was in, there were three of them, shoving her and calling her stranger and half-breed, just out of sight of the windows teachers could spot them through. He didn't know what they meant, the boys or the words, but he could understand perfectly well the unhappiness in her eyes.
Something burned in his chest, and he balled his hands into fists as it burned and swirled up and burst out of his mouth as a yell that scratched against his throat.
Ryohei was seven, the first time he'd honestly tried to hurt someone.
2. Chrome
Colors - ver. original (The problem with having only one eye...)
"... You don't remember how things looked when you could perceive their depth, do you?" She sucked in a breath, and the bird that had been fluttering across her fingers spread into the air as vapor. She tried to imagine how flat and unbelievable it might have looked from a different angle, and for once, her master's laugh offered little comfort.
"I'm sorry," she said, and knew that the fingers running through her hair weren't real.
"Would you like me to replace it?" his voice continued, smooth and surprisingly honest as a dream-thumb settled against the skull she wore in front of the empty socket.
The silence was comforting as she considered it. She'd see perfectly again, she'd make better illusions right away, she knew.
"No," she said finally. "It reminds me of Mukuro-sama." She felt him smile in the back of her mind, though there was no face to see and confirm. "I'll adjust."
"Good."
3. Kieran
SIMULATION (AU, college?)
"Sit down, please."
"What is this strange contraption?"
"It's-- it's just a laptop, Kieran."
"This isn't a Daein invention, is it? You know I refuse to partake in anything those dastards are behind!"
"Yes, I realize that. They were invented in Begnion; I checked to make sure nothing about it would be particularly objectionable." Rhys sighed and opened the laptop, pressing the power button and setting it on the table in front of his flatmate as it started up. Kieran flinched away so dramatically he nearly tipped the seat over, but glanced at Rhys and settled back down when he seemed to realize it wasn't casting Rexbolt on him or anything equally dastardly.
"It is like the television?"
"Well, it's more like the--" Rhys paused, remembered that normal desktop computers were invented in Daein and they therefore didn't have one, and decided that comparing the laptop to one wouldn't help Kieran warm up to it. "... like the television when it's playing video games. You can interact with it more."
"I see! Then it shall help me defeat my foes with the use of small buttons?"
"I-- ... yes, let's say they are. I've already made an account for you," and here he typed "kieran" into the username slot to log into the laptop, "and you can set up a password yourself later."
A few hours later, and Rhys had taught Kieran the wonders of Microsoft Word and the Internet, and informed him that he could use the laptop to study, "so you won't have to bother that poor librarian anymore." Rhys stayed for a while longer, watching Kieran as he looked up things like "Crimea" and "Elincia" and "Renning," before he tentatively decided that it might be safe to leave Kieran with the laptop for a little bit. Just long enough for the laundry to get done, maybe.
Later on, Rhys was just clipping up the first piece of laundry to dry when he heard a bellow and abruptly remembered that he hadn't told Kieran that laptops are fragile.
"Oh, dear-- Kieran, no, you can't duel it--!"
4. Rolf
Cantarella - ver. music box (Rolf's Bow looks like some kind of plastic toy)
In the very beginning, just after the euphoria from getting a gift from Shinon had finally faded down, Rolf developed mixed feelings about his first proper bow. It was a good bow, light but sturdy, and it was much easier to learn on than an iron bow, or Ashera forbid a steel bow, and even if it had been worthless he'd still adore it simply because Shinon made it for him.
But it made him feel small.
It was maybe half the size of his teacher's bows, and far less elegantly shaped--like a bow made for a child, an amateur. He was a child, and he was an amateur, but having his own weapon as a reminder of it burned in an odd, unpleasant way.
So he decided he just needed to grow past it. He'd get so good he'd never need a bow so small anymore; he would use iron bows, and steel bows, and maybe brave bows, if he could find one. He would treat them all well, exactly the way Shinon had taught him to care for them, and he would be a proper sniper. The bow was his first step towards that, towards being great like Shinon--and it was just his first step.
Time passed.
Shinon left.
Rolf entered the battlefield. He shot arrows and ended lives, and told himself that he needed to. He was using his talent to protect people, and gaining more talent in the process so he could keep them from even more harm.
He was good, he knew, but he wasn't good enough--he would still just be a beginner, so long as he held that bow. When he got past it, he'd get even better, and then maybe, just maybe, he'd get so good Shinon would come back. (Because of course Shinon would come back to watch, once he got good enough!)
Rolf told himself this again when it splintered apart near the end of a battle, worn into disrepair from continued use, but somehow, he still ended up crying.
5. Tormod
Stardust Memory (I love Tormod unreasonable amounts. Also this song makes me think of Christmas, which I don't think exists in Tellius, so.)
"It's too cold!" Tormod huffed as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself and tried to stomp, an effect well-ruined by the snow beneath his feet. This didn't improve his mood.
Muarim's hand settling on his hand was probably the only thing that kept him from trying to set the ground aflame, in fact. "Patience, little one. We won't be in Daein forever."
"Sure, you can say that!" he whined, with an attempt at a huff that came out more like a sniffle. Muarim would have to ask someone to prepare tea once they stopped to set up camp, he reasoned. "But you've got a bunch of fur!"
"Not at the moment," Muarim pointed out. Tormod shrugged the comment off like it made no difference whether the fur was present for it to keep a tiger laguz warm.
"Still, don't you think it's way too cold? Do you think we're being lured intro a trap? Maybe they're just waiting until we're so cold, we can't move our limbs right anymore, and then they'll attack us."
"... I think you're letting your imagination run a bit too far away. If you focus on something else, the cold will be easier too ignore." Or at least, Muarim had a small, bleak hope that perhaps a childish fire mage raised in a desert would focus on something other than snow, and then it would be easier for him to ignore. It wasn't a very lively hope.
"It's kind of hard to ignore when I can't move my toes anymore," Tormod complained, as though to squish the tiny hope that much further down. He lifted a foot and waved it stiffly in front of him, just to prove his point, and paused before putting it down. "Hey! Maybe you could carry me again!"
"Carry you?" Muarim's eyebrows lifted at the suggestion, but he couldn't help but smile faintly at the memory's it brought up. "It has been years since you last asked that of me."
"C'mon, Muarim! You know it'll get me to stop complaining!" That was a very good point. "Plus, we're moving way too slow just walking like this, don't you think?" That was a far less good point, but a point nonetheless. Muarim sighed, but dropped forward and shifted to the sound of a victorious whoop nonetheless. He waited just long enough for Tormod to situate himself and clutch to his fur before dashing out of the marching army and running ahead, directed by laughing orders from the tiniest, most stubborn leader he'd ever willingly follow.
6. Fai
Scarlet Onlooker (This song is way too badass for Fai, but the pizzicato bits actually fit him pretty well, I think.)
One would need to be lightfooted to be as good a traitor as Fai.
It was a delicate balance to keep, to talk without telling, to learn without knowing. It was as though he were walking across a mess of wire; he had to step quickly, lest he fall, and to never let his full weight settle in any one place, lest the wire slice his feet. He kept everyone at just the distance away that they wouldn't nudge him, neither from companionship nor from frustrated curiosity, and always remembered that no matter how he stepped, he was just a tool.
He never reached his goal, never made it to the wires' end, but to go so far out that when the taste of blood finally threw his balance, he was stuck to choose between guilt or treason-- a traitor either way.
It takes light feet to go so far.
7. Larxene
Cry Camellia
8. Bluebell
Paradichlorobenzene - ver. music box
9. Haru
Flower Blossoms
10. Zexion
Mata Ashita