Child of the Sun and drabbles

[louiselux]

baranduin has made a fantastic collection of Mary Renault book covers - nearly a 100 of them. 

I particularly like the cheesy 70s Popular Library one that makes Fire From Heaven look like something by Lance Horner. Talking of whom, do any of you remember a book called Child of the Sun, by him and Kyle Onstott?  It was about Heliogabalus and his hunky, bronzed lover. It was probably terrible, but I have fond memories of reading it about the age of 10 and being amazed that it had men kissing and having sex.  In one memorable scene Antoninus, having fallen desperately in love, sits next to his unconcious, bed-ridden amour and cannot resist pulling back the sheet to check the size of his penis.  He's relieved that it's an healthy specimen.  After that touching scene, I cannot recall a thing except that it had a tragic ending.

I recently finished the snippet meme that began in, er,  April, so now roll on the next one!  I meant to do this ages ago, like everything else. I want your drabbles.

Leave me a drabble. It can be about anyone -- one of your characters, one of mine, someone else's, no-one's. Anyone. Then I'll write one for you.

Comments

[daegaer.livejournal.com]

“Help, O Lord.”

Offer me something good to win the battle.

“Whoever comes out my door first upon my return!”

Crowley considered. Jephthah was fated to win anyway; it wasn’t like he’d actually have to work. Very well.

When the conquering hero came home the doors flew open and a girl rushed out, dancing round Jephthah and singing her father’s praises. Jephthah sank to his knees, wailing.

“Alas, daughter! Why must you grieve me so? I have vowed unto the Lord and cannot retract it!”

“To the Lord, Father?” she asked, not yet understanding.

Sometimes Crowley really hated his job.

[louiselux.livejournal.com]

Oh, that's so sad. I felt for Crowley here. Well, I felt for them all. This seems to capture the cruelty inherent in much of the Bible and I like the irony of Crowley's actions being no worse than many other things that happen within its pages.


****

A letter fell to the doormat, the name and address smudged and splotched: the work of an impatient hand.

Crowley ripped it open, curious. Reading it, he laughed, a high-pitched breathless sound of disbelief.

'You were surprising easy to find. It took me only an hour. Take more care ...'

Holmes had warned him on that warm night in Paris: 'I shall keep one eye fixed firmly on you, always.'

But it didn't matter, did it? Holmes would soon be gone.

His stomach twisted, remembering what it felt like to be the focus of such brilliance, examined minutely.

Found wanting.

I'm trying to break a writer's block, so pray excuse the badness and excessive length...

[enigel]

"Come on, brother, just this time..."

He sighed and shook his hooded head.
"You know it's against the rules."

"Screw the rules!"

"And you were always the responsible one... Why do you need to know anyway?"

She smiled coyly, in a way he hadn't seen her in millenniums.
"I have a date."

The same millenniums of habit helped Destiny not drop his book.
"A... You? With..."

"Oh, just a young demon from Earth," Death said while trying to look innocent. "So? Will you tell me?"

"I will tell you something - I think you have finally fallen prey to our younger sibling's machinations, sister."

"Oh shush, you know Desire has no power over me."

"I was thinking of our youngest sister, as a matter of fact."

Not many people could say they've been treated to a sight of a pouting Death, but then, he wasn't just any people. He sighed again.
"Tomorrow you'll be rather busy, but the following two days are just peachy, to use your words."

A cheerily smiling Death was quite the rewarding sight. "I knew you'd understand! Thanks bro," she chirped and blew him a kiss while storming out of the room.

"It's never too late to amuse Delirium, is it?"

The book kept its dignified silence.

Re: I'm trying to break a writer's block, so pray excuse the badness and excessive length...

[louiselux.livejournal.com]

Hee - what a combination! I hope the writers block is good and gone now.

***

Sex and Death: Crowley knows them both intimately, now.

She's getting ready to leave. He can't feel her skin very well-- it’s as slippery and elusive as the trickle of silk over his fingers.

Still, he strokes her naked back as she pulls socks on.

'Stay a bit longer?'

Playing it cool, but her smile tells him it’s not working. Death leans over and kisses him, slowly and thoroughly.

'It's Destiny, I'm afraid,' she says, eventually.

'Oh. Him.' Deflated.

'We won't meet again,' says Death. She goes, with a sweet, childish wave.

'Not ever,' he says, to his empty bedroom.

[cjk1701.livejournal.com]

Crowley meets the *other* Death. :) I think I messed this up by making it 100 words exactly, instead of paying attention to the content. :/

*

Crowley'd never thought to see him again, not even after the crash and the sirens. Not standing there, black robe and all. He considered pleading, sweet-talking, fighting, discarded the lot, and just felt very futile.

And thought he understood death when blue-on-void eyes moved past him, to the prone shapes lying on the pavement.

"No!" He had moved before knowing why, shielding the frayed tweed suit and the charred remains of a book.

Death sidestepped him and picked up something small and wavering from behind Aziraphale, who was opening his eyes fuzzily, then gave him a long look.

ALMOST HUMAN.

[louiselux.livejournal.com]

Oh, I like Death's judgement very much, and also the description of his eyes as 'blue on void'. I will drabble you a drabble v soon!

[cjk1701.livejournal.com]

Wheee! Me happy. :)

[louiselux.livejournal.com]

Rocket Man

Outside in the frozen blue the jet engines were glowing red: they screamed, tearing the air apart. The stewardess smiled at him, staggering with exhaustion. The soft chink of ice in his glass spoke of luxury and comfort, things he valued.

A brilliant orange sunset spilled over new expanses of desert, seas higher and wider than ever. Shrinking pools of green forest blackened as the moon rose.

Eyes squeezed tight, Crowley wished hard for him to be waiting at the gate, a flower in his buttonhole.

Flying over the channel, the chalk downs and then into London. Aziraphale wasn't there.

[cjk1701.livejournal.com]

Eek! That was... scary. Very lonely. Poor Crowley. :(

Thank you. :)

Very short and uninspired drabble, sorry!

[cygny.livejournal.com]

No matter how much he stared at it, the page in front of him stayed blank. He had been sitting there, pen in his hand, for quite some time now, but just hadn't managed to find the words. How long had it been since they last saw each other? How long would it be until they would meet again?

The next day he had managed to write something down. He read it again but it all sounded so... pathetic, begging for attention. He angrily crumpled the paper and threw it in the paper bin. He would go about his business and just try to forget that nobody came to see him anymore.

The demon wasn't interested in reading anyway.

Re: Very short and uninspired drabble, sorry!

[louiselux.livejournal.com]

Oh, I like this! Poor old Aziraphale - he's a woobie when he's miserable! I'll drabble you a dabble v soon, just as soon as I've got this pesky work out of the way:)