100 Themes
Jan. 21st, 2007 04:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexmegamiWell, I'm feeling depressed (again) and can't sleep (what else is new?), so I'm going to do an hour of 100 Themes.
009. Drive
Everything shifts when he gets on his bike. He's like a prince that rides off into the sunset: the sunset doesn't tell you that he'll change, or how, or why. The school recedes behind him, shrinking away, and with it goes the aura of malice, the carefully-crafted rumors, the dark looks and the outright lies. Jude arrives home, turns off the motorcycle, lifts off the helmet, and heads in.
011. Memory
She feels her arm snapping, too painful for a dream.
They had been walking, talking, her taking three quick steps to one of his slow ones; trees lined their way. She didn't know why, hadn't thought to ask when he eventually came; but then the memory of the living room came, her arm shattering in three places as he wrenched her away from the television.
In the memory, he heals her; but she wakes from the dream too early for that, crying in pain and cradling her useless limb.
012. Insanity
She's not his mother, any longer. He can tell that: it's not just the fact that her teeth are a handsaw, her fingernails needles, her hair barbed wire. It's the broken, mad look in her eyes, and the look that came before it, that medicated fog that let her ignore him, him, killer-of-his-father, him, thing-that-should-not-have been. Thing that came from her.
It's not easy to kill her, but it's right.
021. Vacation
"I can't stay much longer," her father tells her. "I'm almost out of vacation time, and my pack needs me."
Many thoughts swirl in her head. Resentment that he left her here, and is leaving her here again to deal with this. Pissed; am I just a vacation to you, then? Anger at the Wound for daring to exist. Pity for her mother, who didn't deserve him showing up on her doorstep again. Sympathy for his pack, out in the ocean with no one to share their trials. Sadness for him, torn about his true duty. Sadness for her, twice-abandoned.
In the end, she mumbles something; maybe "whatever" or maybe "fuck you" or maybe "please don't go" or maybe even "I understand", but she means all of them and none of them and couldn't tell you which.
026. Tears
Jude can't remember the last time he saw his father cry. Oh, maybe the occasional red eyes from banging his thumb with a hammer, that sort of thing; but not this, the full-out tears and the complete rage. Your fault, he shouts. Get out of my sight. There's an implicit never want to see you again.
Jude has no time for tears. Maybe once his sister is safely home, free from Stan's madness. But for now, he must hold the guilt of his father's tears.
027. Foreign
"We flew in from Palestine," his grandfather says, "after your father, our farseer, told us you had Changed. We will work together for the glory of Allah."
Dexter stares at his family uncomprehendingly. "Father?"
"The man you knew as father is... not. He merely accompanied your mother here."
It is beginning to dawn on him - why the car bomb, why the RCMP, why all the questions and confusion. But how did they keep it secret?
He does not know who he is, any longer; his self is a foreign object. It is a dangerous place to be, and he can feel the Rage coming on...
093. Give Up
Their opponents are strong.
Already they can feel the poison from Caglistros' taint racing through their bodies; and the Ridden are exploiting that weakness, fuelling the ichor that runs in their bodies. It is all Todd can manage to cut down the glass-demon until Jude can run him over. His mouth is foaming black, a kind of sick parody of a rabid dog. Jude's fingers are gangrenous.
They are dying, and they can feel it. "The hunt must go on," Todd says. Jude agrees.
They find a phone, call Mackenzie. She's wiping up blood from the kitchen floor, one of her arms lying bleeding in the sink. She struggles to her feet, answers.
"If we die, the hunt goes on."
"You gonna die now, Todd?" she says. "I never took you for a coward." A small fleshy appendage starts growing out of her bloody stump. Todd doesn't respond, but the words have their intended effect. "Cut out the infection and call me back."
"In my mouth," he says.
"Come to me, then." And he does, and she cuts out a quarter of his face, cauterizes it with her stove. There's nothing for it; to do otherwise would be to leave Todd to die.
It's a hard night: Mackenzie grimaces her way through regrowing an arm, Jude thanks God that Essence gave his hands back, Todd is spitting up bits of glass and ichor for weeks. But they pull through. Grit or insanity, no one's sure - they just know that they're too proud to die.
17/100, 1879 words
009. Drive
Everything shifts when he gets on his bike. He's like a prince that rides off into the sunset: the sunset doesn't tell you that he'll change, or how, or why. The school recedes behind him, shrinking away, and with it goes the aura of malice, the carefully-crafted rumors, the dark looks and the outright lies. Jude arrives home, turns off the motorcycle, lifts off the helmet, and heads in.
011. Memory
She feels her arm snapping, too painful for a dream.
They had been walking, talking, her taking three quick steps to one of his slow ones; trees lined their way. She didn't know why, hadn't thought to ask when he eventually came; but then the memory of the living room came, her arm shattering in three places as he wrenched her away from the television.
In the memory, he heals her; but she wakes from the dream too early for that, crying in pain and cradling her useless limb.
012. Insanity
She's not his mother, any longer. He can tell that: it's not just the fact that her teeth are a handsaw, her fingernails needles, her hair barbed wire. It's the broken, mad look in her eyes, and the look that came before it, that medicated fog that let her ignore him, him, killer-of-his-father, him, thing-that-should-not-have been. Thing that came from her.
It's not easy to kill her, but it's right.
021. Vacation
"I can't stay much longer," her father tells her. "I'm almost out of vacation time, and my pack needs me."
Many thoughts swirl in her head. Resentment that he left her here, and is leaving her here again to deal with this. Pissed; am I just a vacation to you, then? Anger at the Wound for daring to exist. Pity for her mother, who didn't deserve him showing up on her doorstep again. Sympathy for his pack, out in the ocean with no one to share their trials. Sadness for him, torn about his true duty. Sadness for her, twice-abandoned.
In the end, she mumbles something; maybe "whatever" or maybe "fuck you" or maybe "please don't go" or maybe even "I understand", but she means all of them and none of them and couldn't tell you which.
026. Tears
Jude can't remember the last time he saw his father cry. Oh, maybe the occasional red eyes from banging his thumb with a hammer, that sort of thing; but not this, the full-out tears and the complete rage. Your fault, he shouts. Get out of my sight. There's an implicit never want to see you again.
Jude has no time for tears. Maybe once his sister is safely home, free from Stan's madness. But for now, he must hold the guilt of his father's tears.
027. Foreign
"We flew in from Palestine," his grandfather says, "after your father, our farseer, told us you had Changed. We will work together for the glory of Allah."
Dexter stares at his family uncomprehendingly. "Father?"
"The man you knew as father is... not. He merely accompanied your mother here."
It is beginning to dawn on him - why the car bomb, why the RCMP, why all the questions and confusion. But how did they keep it secret?
He does not know who he is, any longer; his self is a foreign object. It is a dangerous place to be, and he can feel the Rage coming on...
093. Give Up
Their opponents are strong.
Already they can feel the poison from Caglistros' taint racing through their bodies; and the Ridden are exploiting that weakness, fuelling the ichor that runs in their bodies. It is all Todd can manage to cut down the glass-demon until Jude can run him over. His mouth is foaming black, a kind of sick parody of a rabid dog. Jude's fingers are gangrenous.
They are dying, and they can feel it. "The hunt must go on," Todd says. Jude agrees.
They find a phone, call Mackenzie. She's wiping up blood from the kitchen floor, one of her arms lying bleeding in the sink. She struggles to her feet, answers.
"If we die, the hunt goes on."
"You gonna die now, Todd?" she says. "I never took you for a coward." A small fleshy appendage starts growing out of her bloody stump. Todd doesn't respond, but the words have their intended effect. "Cut out the infection and call me back."
"In my mouth," he says.
"Come to me, then." And he does, and she cuts out a quarter of his face, cauterizes it with her stove. There's nothing for it; to do otherwise would be to leave Todd to die.
It's a hard night: Mackenzie grimaces her way through regrowing an arm, Jude thanks God that Essence gave his hands back, Todd is spitting up bits of glass and ichor for weeks. But they pull through. Grit or insanity, no one's sure - they just know that they're too proud to die.
17/100, 1879 words
no subject
Date: 2007-01-21 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-21 07:33 pm (UTC)...some days there are advantages to being a coldly calculating sociopath! You don't get poisoned!
Of course, her dad flipped out. But that's not my fault; if he'd answered the phone the first friggin' time, I could have ASKED him instead of TOLD him what I'd done...
no subject
Date: 2007-01-22 02:21 am (UTC)Ain't it the truth! ;)
no subject
Date: 2007-01-22 03:04 am (UTC)