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ruebert
List all the first lines of your fics; ask your flist to write drabbles in the comments with the same first line.
1. The sun has set forty minutes ago.
2. According to Freud, the vast majority of all manifestations within one’s dreams had something or other to do with sex.
3. To a casual eye, he looked sharp and polished; ready to face whatever adversity the world hurled at him.
4. Everyone dreams; anyone who tells you they don’t is lying.
5. I was there when he was born, pacing nervously in the next room over, like I was an expectant parent myself.
6. They never suspected.
7. The clock is broken again.
8. “Look, it’s not you. It has nothing to do with you.”
9. The case had been a particularly messy one, in the most literal sense of the word.
10. He awakens to vibrant green eyes; the concern and affection held within them barely masked by a callous facade.
These are mostly from unfinished fics (with the notable exception of the first one), and span several different fandoms. All of them, however, point to the fact that I'm on crack.
ruebertList all the first lines of your fics; ask your flist to write drabbles in the comments with the same first line.
1. The sun has set forty minutes ago.
2. According to Freud, the vast majority of all manifestations within one’s dreams had something or other to do with sex.
3. To a casual eye, he looked sharp and polished; ready to face whatever adversity the world hurled at him.
4. Everyone dreams; anyone who tells you they don’t is lying.
5. I was there when he was born, pacing nervously in the next room over, like I was an expectant parent myself.
6. They never suspected.
7. The clock is broken again.
8. “Look, it’s not you. It has nothing to do with you.”
9. The case had been a particularly messy one, in the most literal sense of the word.
10. He awakens to vibrant green eyes; the concern and affection held within them barely masked by a callous facade.
These are mostly from unfinished fics (with the notable exception of the first one), and span several different fandoms. All of them, however, point to the fact that I'm on crack.
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no subject
Date: 2004-10-11 06:51 pm (UTC)Subaru barely knew how he'd managed to stagger home, exhausted and covered with a gritty mix of dust and grime and something his grandmother would probably have called "ichor". He smelled strange. People on the subway stared at him. He ached right down to his bones, and his knees felt useless, rickety crumbling supports that might give at any moment.
He collapsed in the bathtub, head lolling back as the hot water folded over his body, dizziness and heat and steam consuming him; he was unconscious before he could even light the cigarette in his hand.
He half-dreamed of the ghost, which had said help me, I need you, I'm all alone in this world and this world must suffer as I do. He imagined/remembered its hands relaxing, sliding away from his hair as he'd shouted the words of the spell, heard them pierce the air raw and rough.
It felt like forever before he took a sudden long breath and sat up; the water wasn't quite so hot anymore, and his skin was flushed.
There was a shadow on the wall, its shape vaguely familiar. Subaru smelled cigarette smoke and realised that the cigarette in his hand had vanished somehow.
For a long moment he hesitated, and then he began to wash off, as quickly and thoroughly as he could manage.
He was far too tired to be miserable tonight.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-11 07:22 pm (UTC)