Premise:
1. Pick a character, fandom, or pairing.
2. Put your iPod on "shuffle." Press play and listen to five songs.
3. For whatever song is selected, write something for your selected character/fandom/pairing. You have until the song is over to finish. Do not go back and change. Then post.
The fourth entry in a five-part drabble series. This chapter's a little bit different from the rest; instead of focusing on a central character, each of these sketches highlights a minor character. In the hustle and bustle and hero-ing, I feel that these few often get overlooked. This chapter, then, is my tribute to them.
Let me know what you think, all right? Enjoy, and please drop me a review on your way out~!
Part 4: Pack of Fools
- - -
"The times you were born in may not have been the best
But you can make the times to come better than the rest
I know you will be honest if you can't always be kind"
-Carole King, Child of Mine
- - -
Cid Randell slumped over the bar counter, clutching his almost-empty tankard. His day had been shat; he had wandered from store to store, looking for work, but no one had open positions—not the quarry, not the market. Times were hard, and no one wanted to hire a drunken derelict. "Hey bartend'," he slurred, "Gimme another one, eh?"
"You have to let go first, sir," said the bartender, looking disgusted.
Cid grinned lopsidedly. Inside, he was stone cold sober, but he wanted to get roaring drunk. He knew he already stank of it.
He looked out the window and saw a small, brown-haired figure making its way down the street.
The boy had his mother's eyes.
Tipping his head back, Cid grasped the tankard and drank.
- - -
-FFTA Soundtrack, Vanishing World
- - -
The little moogle smiles as the rest of the clan celebrates, raucous and rowdy, in the common room of the inn. Today the place is packed. Ale flows freely. These are the golden days, where Marche and the rest, flushed with victory, are hailed as heroes. In these days, there are no hard words, no poisonous glances, no malice-laden whispers.
Those will come later, the moogle knows.
They always do.
The moogle wonders if Marche will forget him when he returns to the other world.
In the golden taproom light, a hero looks almost like a god.
- - -
-Kingdom Hearts II, Passion KINGDOM Orchestral Instrumental Version
- - -
She spun the world delicately, the Li Grimm did. Like a lady at her spindle, she drew it out thread by thread, twisting it this way and that to keep it from unraveling. She spun a cloth of dreams, a web of ambition. Under her hands it took form, a deep, rich blue, streaked crimson with passion and veiled in pale, wispy clouds of hope.
And then she breathed on it and, with a sharp snip of fate, let it go.
- - -
"Itsudatte kimi no koto wo, bokura wa koko de matteru kara
Ya na koto ga atta no nara, bokura ni hanashi wo kikasete yo
Sakki made naite ita (nakanai de), kimi no kanashii kao mo (sugu ni)
Hora bokura nara itsu no mani egao ni kaeru (Egao ni kaeru!)
Mata ashita! Hohoenda kimi ni aeru you ni
Sumi kitta aozora ukabu kumo no you ni
Mune ippai hi no hikari abite, aruki dasou
Boku to"
[TRANS: ]
"We're always here waiting for you, so
If something's troubling you, let us hear about it
Even your sad face (don't worry), which was crying earlier (soon)
Look, we can change it to a smile before you know it
(Change it into a smile!)
See you tomorrow! So we can see you smiling
Just like a cloud floating in the perfectly clear blue sky
Bask in the light of day with all your might, and start walking
With me"
-Ouran High School Host Club, Mata Ashita!
- - -
Babus folded his arms over his chest and scowled. He didn't see why he had been forced to accompany the prince on this ridiculous outing. And with the other children, as well! Ragamuffins, all. Now that the war was over and the clans and palace had made its peace, they probably thought that they were all friends again.
Fools. Whatever the prince's personal feelings, he didn't trust that Marche boy one bit.
"Hey, sulkyface. Come and join the fun."
A hand reached out and batted him on the ear—the dead one, the one rife with stitches. Babus stiffened as it swung back and hit him on the cheek.
"I don't do picnics," he said curtly.
"Touchy." The hand fell. Ezel grinned. "You did when we were still at university."
"That was then. This is now." He turned away.
Ezel caught him looking at Marche. "Forget the past. Come on. For one moment, just enjoy yourself."
His one-time friend trailed back to where the picnic lay. Reluctantly, Babus followed.
- - -
"Can I have your attention—
What are we starting here?
Just look around you the answer is clear
Listen, listen
And hear the coming sound"
-Phil Wickham, After Your Heart
- - -
The whispers spread, slowly, like plague, like pox, over the land. She heard them, of course. How could she not?
But she hadn't been queen this long for nothing. She knew what she was doing, what she was getting herself into.
"Mama," whispered her son, tugging at her sleeve like a child, for all that he was a boy almost full-grown. He clutched his bear tightly under his arm. "They're calling us demons."
That bear. That tattered, patched bear. She should have gotten rid of it long ago, when she had the chance.
"I know, honey," she answered quietly. "That's the price of power."
- - -