Random Songinspired Ficlets
So, Shelly tells me this thing she’s doing, where you put your iPod or play list or what not on shuffle, and write what ever you want for as long as the song plays. Doesn’t have to relate to the song, but you have to stop when it’s done.
So I tried it, though admit I didn’t shuffle my songs. I just played one of my really random lists. I also cheated by starting with this first song and knowing/picking what to start with. Oh well. She said do 10 of them but I think I give you 5.
Watanuki, Nami, George (a OC), Malcolm and Jim… All but George are related to stedelweiss, and Jim being that he isn’t there yet but I might app him there.
These are so random omg. But it was fun.
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Believe - The Bravery - 3:26
Watanuki
He started at the boy for a while, feeling a tightness in his chest. It just wouldn’t go away. Every time he heard them call his name for something or another. Therapy or tests or treatment. Every time the boy goes silent the tightness pulled at him.
It was hard to breath.
To believe that they had been here a month already, and more. To believe that they wouldn’t be returning home any time soon, or hadn’t even found an inkling of an idea of how to do so yet. It bothered him.
The idea of being stuck here that much longer, being left here even another day longer made it hard to breath.
He stood there, staring at the boy who’d just come back from yet another therapy. One with Chase again. He stood there staring at him and his bloody clothing, feeling pain in his one eye socket, feeling the tightness in his chest, his heart. He stood staring, feeling more and more helpless. Losing his belief in it all.
Losing hope with every breath. They were going to be trapped here, and die here. He was sure of that.
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The Ocean - Mae - 4:41
Nami
Seated on the edge of a chair in a hall, she stared down the hall, trying to figure it all out. It wasn’t that easy though. It couldn’t be that easy, just to throw away everything like he had. To toss it out like it was a simple crumpled paper. Detailed drawings and words etched on the parchment over time only to be smashed into two hands and tossed over a shoulder.
It can’t be that easy.
And yet he seemed to think it were that easy. There had to be something. Something else going on. He tossed them away like it were nothing. A joke. His job he said. She heard him talking to the Lawyer. It seemed wrong. So wrong to hear him talk like that.
Like the Bully. Like someone so proud of playing a trick on someone, just to see how they fall for it. To see how they fall to the ground. So proud.
And yet she still wasn’t fully convinced. Sure she was pissed, and rightfully so, but if there was something going on there, an act of some sort. She would deck him one. The pain he had pushed off into countless people was unneeded.
The pain she felt on it was uncalled for as well. It angered her to a point that she reacted stupidly.
Grabbing a crumbled ball of paper she unfolded it, spreading it out and trying to flatten it again. Trying to make it proper. Once you rumple it though, it’ll never be the same, right? It will never return to the pristine form it was before.
Looking down at the messed up mass of paper she read it once more. It simply stating in tiny perfect lettering of the cartographers writing ‘I still can’t believe I actually like you.’
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Breakdown - Mae - 4:14
George
He stood in the middle of a large hall way, suddenly feeling cold, blank, staring off at nothing.
A breakdown.
They had all been waiting for it. Waiting for his break down. It was only a matter of time.
“he’s too young” some whisper, while others say he :”never really lived” as they passed, always a bit of gossip here and there.
Nothing feels good being under the gun. Nothing feels good when it’s all on your shoulders. There wasn’t much he could do other then to do as told.
Barely in his twenties and already he was head of it all. Everything was his responsibility. His father hadn’t even taken this role on so soon. It was a cruel punishment, some decided, that the master of the house target someone so young with such a role.
And to top it off they had to watch him care for the young master, a messed up useless young lord who disappointed everyone.
Everyone but George.
He stood in the long tall hall, devoid of anyone and everyone. They were all gone, all missing right now. A staff party that the family was gone on vacation. All but the young master. He had stayed there as always, not wanting to go.
He had cut himself again. A mistake in his part. A knife in his hand out of frustration.
George had taken care of it. Got him to sleep. Got him in bed. Cleaned once again, and calmed. He said he’d stay but his heart was breaking.
Why. Why did he have to keep doing this?
Why did they have to keep ignoring the poor boy.
His heart broke. Standing there in the hall he just broke. A moment of loss, his perfect butlers uniform stained with blood. He just broke down, shoulders slumping, hands lax, head lulling back and staring at the ceiling.
His eyes misted over, and he almost never cried. He wasn’t crying now either, but he was on the urge of it. With a scream he let out a frustrated sound, turned to a end table in the hall, his hand flat and palmed a vase, sending it flying with a crash. He’d order someone to clean that up late. Perhaps even pay for it, but for now he felt angry.
Why didn’t anyone else but him care?
Why was he the only one?
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Paint the Town Red - Ima Robot - 3:36
Malcolm
He ran, panting, down the hall, smiling like a devil. His body was painted in red with some ones blood. He didn’t care. It felt good. SO good. Almost euphoric really. The feel of bones cracking under strong hands, crushed and pushed.
The screaming made him gleeful, the sound of the person begging, pleading, then just screaming in pain, nothing really worth saying now as your head gets smashed into a wall, blood starting to pour down your body.
Pour over your attackers hands.
The feel was fantastic, that’s all there could be said.
The fact that he didn’t even care if he was caught didn’t bother him either. He was pretty sure the boy was alive still. Alive and still able to live, if anyone cared for his broken scull, his broken nose and face.
Oh yes, he was alive, and he could tell who did it to him, but he didn’t care, Robert didn’t care one lick, because he was sure he’d black out soon. It didn’t matter to him. They couldn’t do anything more to him anyhow right?
Thus there he was, sliding to a stop, nearly having a heart attack from fat and running, but stopped at his room, moving inside the small cell, and laughed. He laughed, crashing to the floor, his cell mate strapped there doing nothing. He himself free to play. The whole place was his play ground. What were they going to do anyhow?
Kill him?
He welcomed it.
He hoped they tried.
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Barenaked Ladies - God rest ye marry gentlemen/We Three Kings - 3:30
(why the fuck was X-mas music on this list I donno but I love the song)
Jim Hawkins
“That’s it, easy there now…” He hissed, legs crouched, arms out, feeling the winds rush through his hair. He leaned into the fall, his solar board feeling secured to his feet, surfing through the air, a great free fall right down, faster, faster towards the earth.
He raced faster, the stars behind him shrinking, the ground before him growing, and just as he hunkered down, head out, arms out like wings, trying for more speed, more speed, more daring, faster, faster! Just as he was ready to pull up and hit the wings, it all went dark!
Stars. Stars in his mind, stars in the blacks of his eye lids. He felt as if he hit a wall. But knowing where he had been, and what he had been doing, for how fast, a wall wouldn’t feel like this.
With a start he sat up, gasping, a cold wash of fear riding over him inexcusably. This wasn’t the air, this wasn’t home, this wasn’t anything to do with what he was doing. At all.
And then it hit him. He was there again. In that stupid cell.
The wall he hit was the floor, having rolled out of bed again. Panting he was seated on the floor, looking up with a slightly butt hurt glare on his face, embarrassed and annoyed. There his room mate sat, laughing at him for the sudden fall.
“Have a good trip?”
Jim glared back, running a hand through his hair and staring off at the cell walls.
Damn this place. Let nothing you dismay? Bullshit.
So I tried it, though admit I didn’t shuffle my songs. I just played one of my really random lists. I also cheated by starting with this first song and knowing/picking what to start with. Oh well. She said do 10 of them but I think I give you 5.
Watanuki, Nami, George (a OC), Malcolm and Jim… All but George are related to stedelweiss, and Jim being that he isn’t there yet but I might app him there.
These are so random omg. But it was fun.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Believe - The Bravery - 3:26
Watanuki
He started at the boy for a while, feeling a tightness in his chest. It just wouldn’t go away. Every time he heard them call his name for something or another. Therapy or tests or treatment. Every time the boy goes silent the tightness pulled at him.
It was hard to breath.
To believe that they had been here a month already, and more. To believe that they wouldn’t be returning home any time soon, or hadn’t even found an inkling of an idea of how to do so yet. It bothered him.
The idea of being stuck here that much longer, being left here even another day longer made it hard to breath.
He stood there, staring at the boy who’d just come back from yet another therapy. One with Chase again. He stood there staring at him and his bloody clothing, feeling pain in his one eye socket, feeling the tightness in his chest, his heart. He stood staring, feeling more and more helpless. Losing his belief in it all.
Losing hope with every breath. They were going to be trapped here, and die here. He was sure of that.
-------------------------------------------------------------
The Ocean - Mae - 4:41
Nami
Seated on the edge of a chair in a hall, she stared down the hall, trying to figure it all out. It wasn’t that easy though. It couldn’t be that easy, just to throw away everything like he had. To toss it out like it was a simple crumpled paper. Detailed drawings and words etched on the parchment over time only to be smashed into two hands and tossed over a shoulder.
It can’t be that easy.
And yet he seemed to think it were that easy. There had to be something. Something else going on. He tossed them away like it were nothing. A joke. His job he said. She heard him talking to the Lawyer. It seemed wrong. So wrong to hear him talk like that.
Like the Bully. Like someone so proud of playing a trick on someone, just to see how they fall for it. To see how they fall to the ground. So proud.
And yet she still wasn’t fully convinced. Sure she was pissed, and rightfully so, but if there was something going on there, an act of some sort. She would deck him one. The pain he had pushed off into countless people was unneeded.
The pain she felt on it was uncalled for as well. It angered her to a point that she reacted stupidly.
Grabbing a crumbled ball of paper she unfolded it, spreading it out and trying to flatten it again. Trying to make it proper. Once you rumple it though, it’ll never be the same, right? It will never return to the pristine form it was before.
Looking down at the messed up mass of paper she read it once more. It simply stating in tiny perfect lettering of the cartographers writing ‘I still can’t believe I actually like you.’
-------------------------------------------------------------
Breakdown - Mae - 4:14
George
He stood in the middle of a large hall way, suddenly feeling cold, blank, staring off at nothing.
A breakdown.
They had all been waiting for it. Waiting for his break down. It was only a matter of time.
“he’s too young” some whisper, while others say he :”never really lived” as they passed, always a bit of gossip here and there.
Nothing feels good being under the gun. Nothing feels good when it’s all on your shoulders. There wasn’t much he could do other then to do as told.
Barely in his twenties and already he was head of it all. Everything was his responsibility. His father hadn’t even taken this role on so soon. It was a cruel punishment, some decided, that the master of the house target someone so young with such a role.
And to top it off they had to watch him care for the young master, a messed up useless young lord who disappointed everyone.
Everyone but George.
He stood in the long tall hall, devoid of anyone and everyone. They were all gone, all missing right now. A staff party that the family was gone on vacation. All but the young master. He had stayed there as always, not wanting to go.
He had cut himself again. A mistake in his part. A knife in his hand out of frustration.
George had taken care of it. Got him to sleep. Got him in bed. Cleaned once again, and calmed. He said he’d stay but his heart was breaking.
Why. Why did he have to keep doing this?
Why did they have to keep ignoring the poor boy.
His heart broke. Standing there in the hall he just broke. A moment of loss, his perfect butlers uniform stained with blood. He just broke down, shoulders slumping, hands lax, head lulling back and staring at the ceiling.
His eyes misted over, and he almost never cried. He wasn’t crying now either, but he was on the urge of it. With a scream he let out a frustrated sound, turned to a end table in the hall, his hand flat and palmed a vase, sending it flying with a crash. He’d order someone to clean that up late. Perhaps even pay for it, but for now he felt angry.
Why didn’t anyone else but him care?
Why was he the only one?
-------------------------------------------------------------
Paint the Town Red - Ima Robot - 3:36
Malcolm
He ran, panting, down the hall, smiling like a devil. His body was painted in red with some ones blood. He didn’t care. It felt good. SO good. Almost euphoric really. The feel of bones cracking under strong hands, crushed and pushed.
The screaming made him gleeful, the sound of the person begging, pleading, then just screaming in pain, nothing really worth saying now as your head gets smashed into a wall, blood starting to pour down your body.
Pour over your attackers hands.
The feel was fantastic, that’s all there could be said.
The fact that he didn’t even care if he was caught didn’t bother him either. He was pretty sure the boy was alive still. Alive and still able to live, if anyone cared for his broken scull, his broken nose and face.
Oh yes, he was alive, and he could tell who did it to him, but he didn’t care, Robert didn’t care one lick, because he was sure he’d black out soon. It didn’t matter to him. They couldn’t do anything more to him anyhow right?
Thus there he was, sliding to a stop, nearly having a heart attack from fat and running, but stopped at his room, moving inside the small cell, and laughed. He laughed, crashing to the floor, his cell mate strapped there doing nothing. He himself free to play. The whole place was his play ground. What were they going to do anyhow?
Kill him?
He welcomed it.
He hoped they tried.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Barenaked Ladies - God rest ye marry gentlemen/We Three Kings - 3:30
(why the fuck was X-mas music on this list I donno but I love the song)
Jim Hawkins
“That’s it, easy there now…” He hissed, legs crouched, arms out, feeling the winds rush through his hair. He leaned into the fall, his solar board feeling secured to his feet, surfing through the air, a great free fall right down, faster, faster towards the earth.
He raced faster, the stars behind him shrinking, the ground before him growing, and just as he hunkered down, head out, arms out like wings, trying for more speed, more speed, more daring, faster, faster! Just as he was ready to pull up and hit the wings, it all went dark!
Stars. Stars in his mind, stars in the blacks of his eye lids. He felt as if he hit a wall. But knowing where he had been, and what he had been doing, for how fast, a wall wouldn’t feel like this.
With a start he sat up, gasping, a cold wash of fear riding over him inexcusably. This wasn’t the air, this wasn’t home, this wasn’t anything to do with what he was doing. At all.
And then it hit him. He was there again. In that stupid cell.
The wall he hit was the floor, having rolled out of bed again. Panting he was seated on the floor, looking up with a slightly butt hurt glare on his face, embarrassed and annoyed. There his room mate sat, laughing at him for the sudden fall.
“Have a good trip?”
Jim glared back, running a hand through his hair and staring off at the cell walls.
Damn this place. Let nothing you dismay? Bullshit.