Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Cowboy Bebop. Anybody
that's *not* from Cowboy Bebop, I created myself with my ingeniousness. And
the poem is mine.
Author's Note: Well, it's a start! Since you don't really have much to review on here, I'd like to know if you liked my style of writing. There's not really much to like and not like anyways. X_X Well.. Enjoy! (hopefully.)
*******
My Harmonica Tune
*******
Prologue: Simple
*******
Simple rain drops
Fall
From the dark, lonely
Night sky.
And I am walking the
Dark, lonely cold streets
Once again
Lonely.
---
Jet sat alone at a familiar bar as a man walked up the steps to the stage. His brown hair had grown thick and covered his eyes and he donned a long, tan trench coat. He took his seat upon the black stool, the light shining down upon him. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, and the lights red with neon. He took a harmonica to his mouth, and began playing a solemn tune that couldn't help but remind Jet of the old days. The old days where Spike, Faye, Ed, and himself were always off chasing bounties, and always up to no good. Well, that latter part was actually just Spike's job. And Faye's.
Those days seemed so long ago. Jet sighed. He'd grown old, and now had a large, brown cane because he'd refused to have a simple injury cared for. His hair had begun fading to grey, and all that remained of his beard were a few, short stubbles on his chin. He had aged alright.
The harmonica played had just stopped his song, before he grinned at Jet. Jet grinned back and watched as he walked down the steps, and over the table. He pulled out a chair.
"This seat taken?"
"That seat's never taken, and you know it Cougar." Cougar Reed sat down beside Jet, and studied his expression. Outside, it'd just begin lightly raining. Cougar sneaked an eye at the window, watching the soft tears falling from the sky. He looked back.
"How've you been Jet?"
"I'm alright." Cougar arched an eyebrow.
"..So you're not the least bit curious of where I ran off to?" Jet chuckled.
"I think you're more curious about what happened *after* you ran off than I am." Cougar lit a cigarette, and set his harmonica down.
"True, true. What did happen?"
"You tell me first kid, and then I'll tell you." He narrowed his eyes.
"I'm no longer a kid Jet, and you know it. So why do you still call me that?"
"Old time's sake kid, for old time's sake." The two men nodded and looked at each other, staring into each other's eyes, each remembering the same thought. Cougar finally broke the silence.
"..I ran off to Mars and lived with my aunt for a while. No one recognized me after that nasty encounter with the dagger." Cougar looked up and brushed his bangs out of his face. He had a black eye patch covering his right eye, and a long scar ran down the side of his face.
"All I needed was a new outfit, a new identity, and I was born. Cougar Jones. At your service of course," He grinned. "Now, it's your turn. Tell me a story I won't forget." Jet nodded.
"And I supposed you'd like to know what happened to your brother?"
"-And the others of course, if you'd please." Jet waved at the waiter, and asked for another drink.
"You might want one too. This is going to be a long night." Cougar nodded and took Jet upon his offer, and ordered some whiskey. Silence enveloped them until their drinks arrived a few minutes later, and Jet cleared his throat after a quick sip. Here goes nothing, thought Jet. Time to tell his sad story.
Author's Note: Well, it's a start! Since you don't really have much to review on here, I'd like to know if you liked my style of writing. There's not really much to like and not like anyways. X_X Well.. Enjoy! (hopefully.)
*******
My Harmonica Tune
*******
Prologue: Simple
*******
Simple rain drops
Fall
From the dark, lonely
Night sky.
And I am walking the
Dark, lonely cold streets
Once again
Lonely.
---
Jet sat alone at a familiar bar as a man walked up the steps to the stage. His brown hair had grown thick and covered his eyes and he donned a long, tan trench coat. He took his seat upon the black stool, the light shining down upon him. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, and the lights red with neon. He took a harmonica to his mouth, and began playing a solemn tune that couldn't help but remind Jet of the old days. The old days where Spike, Faye, Ed, and himself were always off chasing bounties, and always up to no good. Well, that latter part was actually just Spike's job. And Faye's.
Those days seemed so long ago. Jet sighed. He'd grown old, and now had a large, brown cane because he'd refused to have a simple injury cared for. His hair had begun fading to grey, and all that remained of his beard were a few, short stubbles on his chin. He had aged alright.
The harmonica played had just stopped his song, before he grinned at Jet. Jet grinned back and watched as he walked down the steps, and over the table. He pulled out a chair.
"This seat taken?"
"That seat's never taken, and you know it Cougar." Cougar Reed sat down beside Jet, and studied his expression. Outside, it'd just begin lightly raining. Cougar sneaked an eye at the window, watching the soft tears falling from the sky. He looked back.
"How've you been Jet?"
"I'm alright." Cougar arched an eyebrow.
"..So you're not the least bit curious of where I ran off to?" Jet chuckled.
"I think you're more curious about what happened *after* you ran off than I am." Cougar lit a cigarette, and set his harmonica down.
"True, true. What did happen?"
"You tell me first kid, and then I'll tell you." He narrowed his eyes.
"I'm no longer a kid Jet, and you know it. So why do you still call me that?"
"Old time's sake kid, for old time's sake." The two men nodded and looked at each other, staring into each other's eyes, each remembering the same thought. Cougar finally broke the silence.
"..I ran off to Mars and lived with my aunt for a while. No one recognized me after that nasty encounter with the dagger." Cougar looked up and brushed his bangs out of his face. He had a black eye patch covering his right eye, and a long scar ran down the side of his face.
"All I needed was a new outfit, a new identity, and I was born. Cougar Jones. At your service of course," He grinned. "Now, it's your turn. Tell me a story I won't forget." Jet nodded.
"And I supposed you'd like to know what happened to your brother?"
"-And the others of course, if you'd please." Jet waved at the waiter, and asked for another drink.
"You might want one too. This is going to be a long night." Cougar nodded and took Jet upon his offer, and ordered some whiskey. Silence enveloped them until their drinks arrived a few minutes later, and Jet cleared his throat after a quick sip. Here goes nothing, thought Jet. Time to tell his sad story.