Drabbles!

[x-catseye.livejournal.com]

I offered to write prompt based drabbles to a few people last night, and here are the results. :)

Enjoy!

~*~

Miles, Nathan, chocolate cupcakes.


It was a dire way to make his point, but Miles thought it was about time someone did, before Nathan tripped over his own lower lip in the midst of all the moping.

With great solemnity, the nine year old boy picked up a chocolate cupcake and smooshed it all over Nathan's face.

~*~

Rahne, Catseye, red string.


Rahne peeked through the doorway and out the window, feeling both guilt and anticipation. One certain no one was looking, she tugged a red ribbon out of her pocket and let it unfold to the ground, swaying temptingly.

Catseye pounced and before long was curled up around one of the ribbon, purring gleefully. Rahne giggled and tugged at the ribbon without ever taking it out of Catseye's reach, her laughter the light and carefree sound of a child catching up on many lost years of joy.

~*~

Nathan, Pete, golf.


Nathan kept giving Pete innocent looks, all the while playing like a pro. Finally, Pete decided it was time to get even. And sure, it was childish to use a hot knife to propel the golf ball away and even
worse to throw the club as far as he could pitch it, but damn it felt good.

Nathan was left staring at a ruined green, feeling far more stunned by the fact that the half-a-golf-ball had been dunked in a perfect, one shot score than the fact that Pete had demolished the entire course so neatly.

He was supposed to be the one to blow things up, dammitall.

~*~

Scott, Haroun, radio-controlled plane

They had managed to cooperate long enough to build the toy plane, and long enough to active the whole mess of wires and batteries required to put the tiny aircraft in the sky.

As some of the younger children watched on, mouths hanging open in surprise, the two grown men finally settled on an arm-wrestling contest to see who would win the right to fly the plane first.

It took only three seconds for Miles and Artie to scramble off to fetch Cain, in a bid to win first dibs on the toy plane for themselves.

~*~

Cain, Rachel, squirrel.


Cain glared up at the tree and shook his fist, the entire gesture ruined in one moment as a nut bounced off his forehead and skittered to the ground. The squirrel hopped to a higher brand and chattered back fiercely at Cain, another acorn soon following the first, Cain briefly cross-eyed as the projectile was neatly bounced off his nose.

Rachel, at the top of the tree, giggling and crowed. Between one moment and the next, a veritable rain of acorns fell from the tree towards Cain.

The squirrels ended up with very good stores of food, that winter.

~*~

Alison, Charles, Red dress.

Alison smiles knowingly, a secret held in her eyes shared with the man waiting for her at the end of the isle, known by none of the others in the room save for the man in the wheelchair beside her. Red fabric whirls and shushes about as she moves forward, the waterfall of red roses from her bouquet dripping petals that spill behind them in a trail of crimson velvet.

Charles' wheelchair moves steadily as he walks her down the isle and Haroun watches their progress with the gaze of a man wondering if reality might suddenly turn out to be a wild, intangible dream.

Her hand in his dispels the illusion, granting him a truth far more solid and precious than he'd ever dared to hope for.

~*~

Kylun, Monastery days.


The boy's eyes opened slowly, staring up at a ceiling upon which myriad patterns unfurled and wound, over and over again. The mysteries of the world etched on faded stone, flecks of gold still lingering amongst the occasionally vivid splotches of blue or yellow.

A face hovered over his, suddenly - old and wizened and beaming at him in a delighted, toothless smile. A fingertip stained with ink reached down and tapped his nose lightly, laughter bright and impish rolling through the room and down a hallway, from which younger peals of joy resonated back instantly in response.

For the first time, Kylun knew the absence of fear and thought that one of the greatest and grandest mysteries of all had finally been laid bare at his feet, between one moment and the next.

~*~

Charles, Scott. Blackbird.

The song's lyrics drifted in the background, the droning buzz of a pollen laden bee humming along to the rhythm of the words.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these broken wings, and learn to fly

The boy stayed in the chair he had been guided too, eyes tightly screwed shut, smelling the rich and opulent scent of wood and heavy drapes, of a room so filled with books that a veritable forest might be held within its walls.

All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

"Hello, Scott." The voice was warm and deep, lilting over a British accent and so very modulated the boy thought it might be part of the song, for a brief, fanciful moment. He felt something being slid along the sides of his face but didn't move, habit long having dug in to not move and to never open his eyes not give in to surprise. He felt something rest lightly on the bridge of his nose and frowned, just a bit. Puzzled, and just as intensely curious since the orphanage caretaker had told him he was being moved to a new place.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

"You can open your eyes, now, Scott."

Though it was the last thing he expected to hear, somehow, Scott wanted to believe the voice. Feet dangling, swinging in the empty air from the chair he was sitting in, he sighed.

Scott wanted very much to think that it was possible.

All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

For the first time since as far as he could remember, the boy opened his eyes. Into a world tinted in shades of red, and to the smile of a man who seemed to be just as delighted as the boy was, to finally be able to see without destroying.

~*~

Note: Not game canon, obviously. :)