CP Song Shuffle Challenge
Jul. 9th, 2012 02:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
r_scribblesFor this prompt on the meme.
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the ficlet; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
No pairings, really. Mention of a mugging, Parent/child angst, ex-spouse issues & a parent's death. Managed to get in all 4 of the main cast. Some of the stories are very sketchy, but I tried to come up with a little punchline or twist to each in spit of the very limited time I had.
Ghost Town
At 10.30 on a Saturday night, Fitton is no place for anybody to go out walking alone. Kids and youths, devoid of jobs since the factory closed down and the big shopping estate was built 5 miles away, out of education, out of hope, out of patience, out of anything bar cheap booze and anger roamed the streets.
And Martin had some sympathy. Not much. After all – he wasn’t exactly rolling in money himself, but he didn’t feel the need to get aggressive about it. He bet that they could afford cars that didn’t break down, at least. Not like his van. Which was exactly why he was walking through Fitton on his own at 10.30 on a Saturday night.
The big Halford’s. that’s what he hated passing the most. More than the pubs. The big Halford’s was so deserted…except, when it wasn’t.
It wasn’t, tonight. There had to be at least 10 of the little…so and so’s. He braced himself. Maybe if he ran fast enough he could get away before they realised there was nothing in his wallet, and really got angry.
-x-
Smile
Three cups of tea. Arthur wasn’t feeling thirsty.
Three hobnobs. Arthur had eaten earlier.
Douglas was upset. He’d hoped to see his daughter in the Half Term holiday, but his ex wife was taking her away to Corfu.
Skipper was really down. He wasn’t sure how he’d pay the rent this month. Again.
His Mum had had another of those phone calls from his dad. He did rather wish his dad could stop doing that.
They didn’t tell him. He knew, though. Maybe they thought it would get him down.
Nothing got him down. Not really. It was a little bit of a downer that they thought they couldn’t tell him, but still.
Three cups of tea, and three hobnobs.
‘Here you go, chaps.’
-x-
Castle On A Cloud
Martin hasn’t believed in Heaven since 1991. His Mum died, and they told him she’d gone to Heaven, and he’d believed it for a few weeks, and then thought no.
No.
Sod Heaven.
Not believing in Heaven. Heaven couldn’t have her if he couldn’t.
Part of the grieving process, they’d said. A phase, they’d said.
It hadn’t been a phase. He didn’t believe in any of it. Castles in the clouds. Nonsense.
They ascended. Pushed through the white and up into the blue. A carpet of fluffy white beneath them.
This is what it had looked like when he’d tried to picture heaven, as a child.
He thought of his mother. Only for a second. She was there. For a second.
-x-
Hushabye Mountain
http://youtu.be/y1Mce3RA4io
Just the one hotel room. Well – the hotel was basic to say the least, but it was all there was in the tiny town.
It was cold. They pulled their blankets about their ears. Douglas lay awake for half an hour or so, in the cold. Thinking. He was always thinking.
The soft sounds of Arthur’s sleeping breaths slowed his own heartbeat, followed by Martin’s gentle snores. He always refused to believe that he snored.
Douglas missed sharing a bedroom, these days. Well. Not tonight. He fell asleep.
-x-
Strawberry Fields Forever
It was supposed to be the Summer of Love. Carolyn Knapp didn’t feel terribly lovely. Not at this ridiculous party. In a field. Who had parties in a field? You went camping in fields. If she could at least find a bar somewhere – have a nice glass of wine or something… but no.
Everyone smelled.
The music was all right, she supposed. But really, she’d liked the Fab Four better before they’d started going around with bare feet and flowers in their hair.
Peace and Love. Pah. Whatever happened to an honest day’s work, eh?
She was getting old. How was she getting old? She wasn’t even 20 yet, but she felt completely out of place, here. She left the party, and went home.
-x-
Yes
Oh, happy day. Oh frabjuous day. Hailey was gone. That wasn’t the best bit. Frankly, Carolyn always felt that Hailey could bally well keep Gordon. She deserved him. No – that wasn’t the good bit so much as Gordon’s pathetic drunken crawling. To her. To Arthur, even more repugnant.
And Arthur, her wonderful, wonderful Arthur had slammed the door in his face.
Delightful child!
Oh, they were better now. They were well enough to tell him what he could do with what he had to offer.
‘I was a bit rude. Was I a bit rude?’
‘Yes. And I’m so very proud of you, dear.’
‘You can stop squeezing me if you like now, Mum. Mum? Oh, well.’
-x-
The Minute Waltz
The thing about bears… the thing…
BZZTTT!! Repetition!
Oh, all right, then.
I like bears! They’re brilliant! I like their…
BZZT. Repetition of bears, I’m afraid.
Oh. OK, your go, then.
Bears. Great big brutes. Rip your arm off. Martin didn’t have a fight with one, once, I made that up, but never mind, he did very well…
Bzzzt. Deviation.
-x-
I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day
‘YES!!!!’
‘Arthur.’
‘Oh, but isn’t it Christmassy! Can we go sledding? Can we? Can we? Oh, I wonder if we’ll see Santa.’
‘I was under the impression that Father Christmas lived in Lapland.’
‘Lapland. Greenland. Same difference.’
‘Not really.’
‘But it’s so SNOWY! Can we hang our socks up tonight?’
‘I’m going to be wearing my socks tonight, Arthur. And any spare socks that might be doing the rounds. It’s absolutely freezing.’
‘But I could whip up some eggnog. That’ll warm you up.’
‘You don’t know how to make eggnog.’
‘Yes, I do! It’s got eggs in it. And nog. ‘
‘We don’t have any eggs. Or any nog.’
‘No. But we’ve got vodka!’
‘That might have to do for me. What about you, Douglas?’
‘I’ll wear all the socks.’
‘Oh, but Chaps. We have to do Christmassy stuff!’
‘Arthur. Seriously. It’s the 18th of October.’
-x-
The Lost Art of Conversation
Talk about something.
What?
I don’t know.
Er.
David Jason? Francis Bacon. Frank Lampard. Anything!
I don’t know who any of those people are. Except David Jason. He was Trigger off Only Foold & Horses, wasn’t he?
Close. And, look. We’re talking. Anything to break this bloody silence. It’s driving me mad.
How much longer?
Four hours.
God. Wh… what about God? We could talk about God. Do you… do you do God?
Sort of. You?
Sort of. Again. Um. Telly. What are you watching at the… no. What are you reading at the moment?
Did you just change it to books to sound more intellectual?
No.
Well. At the moment, I’m re-reading Machiavelli’s The Prince. You?
Er.
What?
The, um. I like the cover.
What are you reading?
50 Shades of Grey.
-x-
All I Want Is You
Simple pleasures, simple wants. Food. Shelter. Water. Sleep. Warmth. You. The feel of you. Being in you. I need it as much as I need air. You take me to places I could never go without you. I’ll never leave you. Not until you die. Please don’t do that for a long time. Please don’t go anwyhere without me. You’re a part of me. I don’t know if you feel the same way. I think you do. The way you move me.
I love you, Gerti.
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the ficlet; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
No pairings, really. Mention of a mugging, Parent/child angst, ex-spouse issues & a parent's death. Managed to get in all 4 of the main cast. Some of the stories are very sketchy, but I tried to come up with a little punchline or twist to each in spit of the very limited time I had.
Ghost Town
At 10.30 on a Saturday night, Fitton is no place for anybody to go out walking alone. Kids and youths, devoid of jobs since the factory closed down and the big shopping estate was built 5 miles away, out of education, out of hope, out of patience, out of anything bar cheap booze and anger roamed the streets.
And Martin had some sympathy. Not much. After all – he wasn’t exactly rolling in money himself, but he didn’t feel the need to get aggressive about it. He bet that they could afford cars that didn’t break down, at least. Not like his van. Which was exactly why he was walking through Fitton on his own at 10.30 on a Saturday night.
The big Halford’s. that’s what he hated passing the most. More than the pubs. The big Halford’s was so deserted…except, when it wasn’t.
It wasn’t, tonight. There had to be at least 10 of the little…so and so’s. He braced himself. Maybe if he ran fast enough he could get away before they realised there was nothing in his wallet, and really got angry.
-x-
Smile
Three cups of tea. Arthur wasn’t feeling thirsty.
Three hobnobs. Arthur had eaten earlier.
Douglas was upset. He’d hoped to see his daughter in the Half Term holiday, but his ex wife was taking her away to Corfu.
Skipper was really down. He wasn’t sure how he’d pay the rent this month. Again.
His Mum had had another of those phone calls from his dad. He did rather wish his dad could stop doing that.
They didn’t tell him. He knew, though. Maybe they thought it would get him down.
Nothing got him down. Not really. It was a little bit of a downer that they thought they couldn’t tell him, but still.
Three cups of tea, and three hobnobs.
‘Here you go, chaps.’
-x-
Castle On A Cloud
Martin hasn’t believed in Heaven since 1991. His Mum died, and they told him she’d gone to Heaven, and he’d believed it for a few weeks, and then thought no.
No.
Sod Heaven.
Not believing in Heaven. Heaven couldn’t have her if he couldn’t.
Part of the grieving process, they’d said. A phase, they’d said.
It hadn’t been a phase. He didn’t believe in any of it. Castles in the clouds. Nonsense.
They ascended. Pushed through the white and up into the blue. A carpet of fluffy white beneath them.
This is what it had looked like when he’d tried to picture heaven, as a child.
He thought of his mother. Only for a second. She was there. For a second.
-x-
Hushabye Mountain
http://youtu.be/y1Mce3RA4io
Just the one hotel room. Well – the hotel was basic to say the least, but it was all there was in the tiny town.
It was cold. They pulled their blankets about their ears. Douglas lay awake for half an hour or so, in the cold. Thinking. He was always thinking.
The soft sounds of Arthur’s sleeping breaths slowed his own heartbeat, followed by Martin’s gentle snores. He always refused to believe that he snored.
Douglas missed sharing a bedroom, these days. Well. Not tonight. He fell asleep.
-x-
Strawberry Fields Forever
It was supposed to be the Summer of Love. Carolyn Knapp didn’t feel terribly lovely. Not at this ridiculous party. In a field. Who had parties in a field? You went camping in fields. If she could at least find a bar somewhere – have a nice glass of wine or something… but no.
Everyone smelled.
The music was all right, she supposed. But really, she’d liked the Fab Four better before they’d started going around with bare feet and flowers in their hair.
Peace and Love. Pah. Whatever happened to an honest day’s work, eh?
She was getting old. How was she getting old? She wasn’t even 20 yet, but she felt completely out of place, here. She left the party, and went home.
-x-
Yes
Oh, happy day. Oh frabjuous day. Hailey was gone. That wasn’t the best bit. Frankly, Carolyn always felt that Hailey could bally well keep Gordon. She deserved him. No – that wasn’t the good bit so much as Gordon’s pathetic drunken crawling. To her. To Arthur, even more repugnant.
And Arthur, her wonderful, wonderful Arthur had slammed the door in his face.
Delightful child!
Oh, they were better now. They were well enough to tell him what he could do with what he had to offer.
‘I was a bit rude. Was I a bit rude?’
‘Yes. And I’m so very proud of you, dear.’
‘You can stop squeezing me if you like now, Mum. Mum? Oh, well.’
-x-
The Minute Waltz
The thing about bears… the thing…
BZZTTT!! Repetition!
Oh, all right, then.
I like bears! They’re brilliant! I like their…
BZZT. Repetition of bears, I’m afraid.
Oh. OK, your go, then.
Bears. Great big brutes. Rip your arm off. Martin didn’t have a fight with one, once, I made that up, but never mind, he did very well…
Bzzzt. Deviation.
-x-
I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day
‘YES!!!!’
‘Arthur.’
‘Oh, but isn’t it Christmassy! Can we go sledding? Can we? Can we? Oh, I wonder if we’ll see Santa.’
‘I was under the impression that Father Christmas lived in Lapland.’
‘Lapland. Greenland. Same difference.’
‘Not really.’
‘But it’s so SNOWY! Can we hang our socks up tonight?’
‘I’m going to be wearing my socks tonight, Arthur. And any spare socks that might be doing the rounds. It’s absolutely freezing.’
‘But I could whip up some eggnog. That’ll warm you up.’
‘You don’t know how to make eggnog.’
‘Yes, I do! It’s got eggs in it. And nog. ‘
‘We don’t have any eggs. Or any nog.’
‘No. But we’ve got vodka!’
‘That might have to do for me. What about you, Douglas?’
‘I’ll wear all the socks.’
‘Oh, but Chaps. We have to do Christmassy stuff!’
‘Arthur. Seriously. It’s the 18th of October.’
-x-
The Lost Art of Conversation
Talk about something.
What?
I don’t know.
Er.
David Jason? Francis Bacon. Frank Lampard. Anything!
I don’t know who any of those people are. Except David Jason. He was Trigger off Only Foold & Horses, wasn’t he?
Close. And, look. We’re talking. Anything to break this bloody silence. It’s driving me mad.
How much longer?
Four hours.
God. Wh… what about God? We could talk about God. Do you… do you do God?
Sort of. You?
Sort of. Again. Um. Telly. What are you watching at the… no. What are you reading at the moment?
Did you just change it to books to sound more intellectual?
No.
Well. At the moment, I’m re-reading Machiavelli’s The Prince. You?
Er.
What?
The, um. I like the cover.
What are you reading?
50 Shades of Grey.
-x-
All I Want Is You
Simple pleasures, simple wants. Food. Shelter. Water. Sleep. Warmth. You. The feel of you. Being in you. I need it as much as I need air. You take me to places I could never go without you. I’ll never leave you. Not until you die. Please don’t do that for a long time. Please don’t go anwyhere without me. You’re a part of me. I don’t know if you feel the same way. I think you do. The way you move me.
I love you, Gerti.
