This was written to fulfill a request on my LiveJournal: "I would very much like a drabble (100 words exactement, s'il vous plait!) set in the 'Nightfall' universe, and my chosen title is 'Burnt Sausages and Purple Hair.'"

Burnt Sausages and Purple Hair

The smell of the burning meat flooded his nostrils, invading and conquering, leaving his appetite and anticipation fallen like innocents on the battlefield. Alma swore in her strangely innocent way behind him and he closed his eyes to her, groping blindly towards the window.

Lights sparked behind his lids, catching the folds of a black shirt that strained with the man's fervent movements, dark hair glowing purple and violet and crimson with the phantasm that filled the Shangri-La's stage.

Smoke curled in the air, sinuous strands, acrid but sweet on his lips, and he smiled, content to watch the dance.