1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them
Topic: Kusanagi Motoko v. Albert Wesker crossover pairing.
GITS v. Resident Evil
Time of Dying- Three Days Grace
It was a promise that meant everything to either one of them; in different ways, of course, but everything nonetheless.
"You won't die on me, will you?"
"Never."
"Promise me."
"I do."
They'd tested this over and over again with each other, sometimes in recapping the promise, and sometimes in coming damn near close to breaking it; Kusanagi's innumerable fights and the tenacity not to give up, or worse, not to want help. And Albert's constant dangerous game, jumping on the psychological fingers of the most psychopathic maniacs in the black market.
So once again they sat together, he on the edge of the bed, her laying on it, one hand in the other's other . Situations like this came about often.
"Never do this again." he said quietly.
"I won't."
In the end- Linkin Park
Albert had a tendency to just stop and drop everything, and think. He could do so for hours on end, and just as often she would sit with him and watch him, or drift into her own thoughts while he did so.
They just sat there, looking through the balcony across the well-wooded lumps that signaled hills, and the mist that was quietly starting to form as night fell and temperatures dropped. The quiet layered, and so did, ultimately, trust.
She looked to him after a moment as if knowing he was going to say something, just as his mouth opened;
"When it comes to people, the only type of cause that matters is the final cause, the purpose. What a person had in mind. Once you understand what people really want, you can't hate them anymore. You can fear them, but you can't hate them, because you can and will always find the same desires in your own heart."
Someday- Nickelback
They never fought. Instead of the internal disturbances most couples had, they had other ones that had much more to do with themselves individually than as a couple. It was usually Kusanagi who was openly plagued by memories, but it wasn't her briefcase that was being repacked with shaking hands. He was not sane at that moment, and so she figured she would not stop him- not from packing, but naturally she would stop him from leaving if he actually got that far.
"Welcome to the human fucking race. Nobody controls his own life. The best you can do is choose to be controlled by good people, by people who love you, and they never gave me that chance. I'm going out into the wilderness, I swear to the powers that be, and I'm staying there." He raged, hands clenching convulsively on a file.
She looked at him and responded after a moment; "But you have that choice now."
And she was not surprised when she felt the muscles in his shoulder untense under her hand. Or when his hand slowly unclenched and the paper drifted the floor. And even less when he went silent, realizing something that he should have realized moments, minutes, hours ago, and pulled her to him, grimacing in shame.
Psycho- Puddle of Mudd
She knew something was up for two reasons. One being that he'd returned from an eight hour work span still wearing his lab coat, (which he should have known was not a very good idea) occasionally coughing, but looking very happy for one reason or another.
Eventually, when she saw he was eating his bread without slicing it into meticulously well proportioned pieces she took a bite at him;
"What happened?" Kusanagi sat across from him at the table, staring at him and trying to figure out what on earth was going on.
"Ah, nothing. William, Faculty A and I received our work reports- and psyche reports today."
"Oh?"
"They called him an emo."
"What about you?" she asked.
"Oh." he paused, grinned sheepishly.
Wesker raised a hand to go through the motions of slicking his hair back. It wasn't necessary.
"Well. I ate my psyche report."
She just stared, looking half amused, half horrified.
"You...ate it?"
Albert shrugged and pointed out;
"Look, once you've duct-taped a ziplock bag to man's chest as a means of punishment, there is no going back."
So far Away- Staind
It was absolutely his fault for introducing it to her, a simulation game- the most perfect one, which was how it had caught his interest. So he was stuck there, staring at her and the game in exasperation while she apparently tried to beat it, and when she couldn't hack it.
'Does she know that the game can't be won? It's all improvisation, the program makes everything up as it goes. It loops forever.'
But even if she did know, she wasn't stopping, challenging the server and the coding routinely while she played, the computer challenging her back by switching her player's form whenever it could- from a human, to a bear, to a small fox.
What she was really doing to test the game's capacity was ignoring all of the possibilities it offered her. She didn't stray from the original path to see what might be on the edges of the simulation world, instead going just forwards. And when she was playing a game she couldn't win, she kept trying. A game that could not be won, and she won it by thinking outside of what the simulator intended her to think. 'Let's see you stand up to that.'
And then she did the impossible. The computer did not know what to do. She stared in fascination at the CGI door in front of her player, knowing that Wesker was staring with equal fascination over her shoulder.
On the door, written in phosphorescent emeralds, the words; 'The end of the World'.
She watched it, before she heard him behind her;
"Log off."
She could win the game, she knew. The End of the World could mean nothing else.
Instead she followed his advice and shut the simulator down without saving.
She hates me- Puddle of Mudd
People watching had to be the most amazing sport in the book of Albert Wesker. He loved it, and he dragged her into it as well. Laying down beside each other in the grass in the center-square of a rather large park, watching an unprofessional pair in their twenties storm past in the middle of an argument.
"Young American couples have terrible luck."
She glanced at him, frowned. "I wouldn't call it terrible luck, I guess they just don't get along. You shouldn't look at everything that way, you're already pessimistic."
"....Fine. But now that I think about it, not Americans. Or humans, it's everyone. I mean, just look at that."
He nodded to a pair of squirrels dodging in ribbon like swirls around a trashcan, one with a half-eaten Snowball in it's mouth, the other pursuing, chattering. The Snowball was falling apart in chunks of angel-food cake and artificial coconut, the possessing squirrel looking distressed as he tried to escape his heathen counterpart.
He grinned at her. "....she fucking /hates/ him."
Worship Me (I'm on TV!)- Hypnogaja
She had to find a way to prank him that wasn't harmful. Sure she'd considered a prank phone call, but this was all in retaliation of a phone call of his, and she didn't want to be redundant or predictable.
She'd decided to use the supreme evil against him, and while he believed her to be asleep, contently passing into a coma of his own, she stayed up working on this afore mentioned supreme evil.
A wikipedia article.
Kusanagi realized she didn't know an incredible lot about the man. He'd worked for Umbrella, he was a scientist, he'd turned against S.T.A.R.S and oranges gave him a nervous breakdown.
She would have to improvise. Which was good, this was prank. Might as well make this amusing.
'After being an ass and turning against Umbrella he started working for a bunch of people who's identities were never revealed. He ended up getting shipped to some island in a sea near Britain to recover some virus. The virus was evidently to be found in the body of Alexia Ashford, but she was really good at hiding so instead he kept running into her brother who had a makeup fetish and who's voice made babies cry. His name was Alfred Ashford.'
She stopped to think, before she continued. Grinned. This was evil and she knew it, but it was fun, and he'd probably get a laugh out of it. That or his ego would recede, and that wasn't bad either.
'He thus dissapeared, reappearing only in time for the Las Plagas incident, intending to gain a sample of the parasite. Unfortunately he was stooped enough to use Ada as the spy to get it and she was really nothing but a bitch in a red dress so it ended up getting shipped off to a WalMart somewhere.
He is still trying to be god but seeing as god has a beard, and he has an inability to grow one, he has found himself improvising by killing old men.'
(Thank you, Taker-Took-my-Toys for inspiring me to do the wikipedia thing. Chapter 17 was loltastic and I didn't know what to do so.)
8. Addicted- Saving Abel
They ended up like this everywhere they went at some point or another. It didn't matter where they were, where fate dumped them, they just always ended up glued together, exchanging kisses and flattery.
So they were stuck between down comforter and embroidered white hotel sheet, murmuring things in each other's ears. The fact that neither had had a very pleasant week meant one thing. Both were playful, to some extent. Proof of this was found in that he had one hand down her shirt, and another below her waistline, slipping unhindered between her thighs without second thought. And that she was less than protesting.
They'd left a 'Do-not-disturb' sign hooked around the door.
9. If You Only Knew- Shinedown
'If you only knew, I'm hanging by a thread. The web I spin for you. If only you knew, I'd sacrifice my beating heart before I lose you. I still hold onto the letters you returned, I swear I've lived and learned.'
It was funny, he'd said it once, pointed it out on purpose. "We never intend to leave and yet we always end up in different parts of the world.", and it was true. They never intended to leave but they both had their agendas, ones that were separate from each other the way the rest of the world was separate from them.
It didn't matter, though, you could be on totally different continents, different countries, and you could share thoughts. Neither of them went long without thinking of the other, reminded, or just having to remind themselves of things other than that to continue operating.
'It's 4:03 and I can't sleep, without you next to me I- toss and turn like the sea, if I drown tonight, bring me back to life. Breathe your breath into me. The only thing that I still believe in'
The cell phone was golden. So was email. Messages that were never left unread or unheard for more than a few moments, the other immediately taking the chance to respond. Glad they had found a bridge, because sound and sense was still a replacement for being there.
The sweetest post-graduate-level philosophy of life.
'Is you. If you only knew.'
Resurrection Fern- Iron and Wine
"I didn't know they could survive here." She said quietly, Albert crouched by her legs while they stared down at the small white dandelion growing scraggly and weak, but growing nonetheless through a crack the asphalt, suffocating ash surrounding it.
"It should have died, the ground's not healthy for it, and normal things don't last here long."
But it wasn't dead. And over the next few weeks, it would continue growing, and they'd keep watching it.
Until one day Kusanagi woke up early to go see if it was still there, Albert joining her after not too long. They shared no words, watching the white puff shiver a bit against a breeze neither person could feel. After a moment Wesker stepped forwards and scuffed the flower, burying it in ash and scattering the seeds into the air where they drifted. An eerie, luminescent white light against the dark atmosphere.
One day the crooked, little weed grew back.
They didn't scuff it that time.
*Credit to Orson Scott Card for many quotes and influences, including the Simulator.