Title: The Need for Revenge
Author: Fallingdux
Disclaimer: The following lyrics are property of Audioslave
Distribution: As long as my name's on it, you can send it to hell in a picnic basket if that's where you want to send it. I'd like to know if it's going anywhere, but you don't have to ask.
Rating: PG-13? No idea. Whatever rating light swearing earns. Subject to change as the story continues.
SPECIAL THANKS TO KENDRA FOR HER WONDERFUL FEEDBACK
*******Part 5********
Darla squinted her eyes, straining against the dim surroundings. She tried ignoring the constant, droning palpitation of heartbeats. The combined effort was causing her head to spin.
On the far wall of the club, she noticed a large mirror that ran across the entire length of the room. Lights danced across its glass surface, reflecting harsh beams of color throughout the club. She blinked, trying to focus her mind.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several guys swaggering drukenly. In their inebriated state, two of them began exchanging punches. The taller one got the advantage, and threw his opponent against the mirror, causing several cracks and splinters to spread across the surface like ivy. No one payed them any mind, save the disgruntled bartender who simply looked on with annoyance.
If not for the loud screetching of a poorly-tuned guitar and the pandimonious atmosphere, it would have been painfully obvious that more than half of the patrons were not reflected in the mirror. Again, though, it seemed like no one cared.
Shrinking into the shadows, she avoided being seen as she snuck around to a stairway in one of the darkened corners of the room. She sighed heavily: tonight it seemed a lot more crowded than it usually was. Mildly, she wondered if Tylonol had any effect on vampires.
"Hey there Sunshine," a familiar voice called out from behind her. Already knowing who it was, she turned slowly.
"Lorne," she greeted. "Can't you do any better than Sunshine?" His forehead wrinkled a bit in concentration. "Sorry Princess, Sunshine's all I've got," he smirked. "So, what can I do for you? Haven't seen you around all week, thought you'd forgotten 'bout me."
She snorted. "I wish. I came to say yes, I'll do it. Just let me make this clear: no one hears about this. Ever," she stressed.
Lorne grinned knowingly. "Knew you'd come around Flufflefangs." Her glare only caused his smile to widen. "So, what'll it be?"
"A tequila would be good," she said sarcastically. Her gaze dropped down to her left hand and she eyed it carefully, as if just realizing the bottle that her fingers were wrapped tightly around. Raising it to her lips, she took a swig of the cheep liqour. It burned down her throat, and she held back the urge to gag on the foul liquid. Even after all her centuries of living, she was still not accustomed to the taste. Flinching slightly at the taste, she took another swig.
"You know what I meant," he admonished gently.
She shrugged. "Fine. Show Me How to Live, then. Audioslave." At Lorne's raised eyebrow, she explained "Spike and his damn music. Only shit I know the words to." She raised the drink to her lips again. Her mind was still too clear for her tastes.
"And you're sure you want to do this up here? The crowd would love ya."
She shivered at the mental image. "Just put on the fucking song."
"And with the early dawn
Moving right along
I couldn't buy an eyeful of sleep
And in the aching night under satellites
I was not received
Built with stolen parts
A telephone in my heart
Someone get me a priest
To put my mind to bed
This ringing in my head
Is this a cure or is this a disease
(Chorus)
Nail in my head
From my creator
You gave me life
Now show me how to live
And in the after birth
On the quiet earth
Let the stains remind you
You thought you made a man
You better thing again
Before my role defines you
(Chorus)
Nail in my head
From my creator
You gave me life
Now show me how to live
And in your waiting hands
I will land
And roll out of my skin
And in your final hours I will stand
Ready to begin
Author: Fallingdux
Disclaimer: The following lyrics are property of Audioslave
Distribution: As long as my name's on it, you can send it to hell in a picnic basket if that's where you want to send it. I'd like to know if it's going anywhere, but you don't have to ask.
Rating: PG-13? No idea. Whatever rating light swearing earns. Subject to change as the story continues.
SPECIAL THANKS TO KENDRA FOR HER WONDERFUL FEEDBACK
*******Part 5********
Darla squinted her eyes, straining against the dim surroundings. She tried ignoring the constant, droning palpitation of heartbeats. The combined effort was causing her head to spin.
On the far wall of the club, she noticed a large mirror that ran across the entire length of the room. Lights danced across its glass surface, reflecting harsh beams of color throughout the club. She blinked, trying to focus her mind.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several guys swaggering drukenly. In their inebriated state, two of them began exchanging punches. The taller one got the advantage, and threw his opponent against the mirror, causing several cracks and splinters to spread across the surface like ivy. No one payed them any mind, save the disgruntled bartender who simply looked on with annoyance.
If not for the loud screetching of a poorly-tuned guitar and the pandimonious atmosphere, it would have been painfully obvious that more than half of the patrons were not reflected in the mirror. Again, though, it seemed like no one cared.
Shrinking into the shadows, she avoided being seen as she snuck around to a stairway in one of the darkened corners of the room. She sighed heavily: tonight it seemed a lot more crowded than it usually was. Mildly, she wondered if Tylonol had any effect on vampires.
"Hey there Sunshine," a familiar voice called out from behind her. Already knowing who it was, she turned slowly.
"Lorne," she greeted. "Can't you do any better than Sunshine?" His forehead wrinkled a bit in concentration. "Sorry Princess, Sunshine's all I've got," he smirked. "So, what can I do for you? Haven't seen you around all week, thought you'd forgotten 'bout me."
She snorted. "I wish. I came to say yes, I'll do it. Just let me make this clear: no one hears about this. Ever," she stressed.
Lorne grinned knowingly. "Knew you'd come around Flufflefangs." Her glare only caused his smile to widen. "So, what'll it be?"
"A tequila would be good," she said sarcastically. Her gaze dropped down to her left hand and she eyed it carefully, as if just realizing the bottle that her fingers were wrapped tightly around. Raising it to her lips, she took a swig of the cheep liqour. It burned down her throat, and she held back the urge to gag on the foul liquid. Even after all her centuries of living, she was still not accustomed to the taste. Flinching slightly at the taste, she took another swig.
"You know what I meant," he admonished gently.
She shrugged. "Fine. Show Me How to Live, then. Audioslave." At Lorne's raised eyebrow, she explained "Spike and his damn music. Only shit I know the words to." She raised the drink to her lips again. Her mind was still too clear for her tastes.
"And you're sure you want to do this up here? The crowd would love ya."
She shivered at the mental image. "Just put on the fucking song."
"And with the early dawn
Moving right along
I couldn't buy an eyeful of sleep
And in the aching night under satellites
I was not received
Built with stolen parts
A telephone in my heart
Someone get me a priest
To put my mind to bed
This ringing in my head
Is this a cure or is this a disease
(Chorus)
Nail in my head
From my creator
You gave me life
Now show me how to live
And in the after birth
On the quiet earth
Let the stains remind you
You thought you made a man
You better thing again
Before my role defines you
(Chorus)
Nail in my head
From my creator
You gave me life
Now show me how to live
And in your waiting hands
I will land
And roll out of my skin
And in your final hours I will stand
Ready to begin
