Hey, Sharyn! Badfic! You'll like it!
Jan. 2nd, 2003 10:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
giddygeekEdited to tell Sharyn--although, no, it's not LotR. But still! *G*
Because when I said, Ces, maybe you should write a series about Chainsmoking Badass Elves what I actually meant was, Ces, I'm going to write you
C'ansure Mawn studied the glowing tip of his lit cigarette. "There are times when it's. Difficult. To live my life," he said. His slow rasp of a voice didn't travel beyond the circle of light that illuminated the table. But when he leaned forward and put his hand out to tap ashes from the cigarrette, the bells that hung from his wrists rang out clearly.
Behind him, in the darkest corner of the room, an alien cried out in pain.
Mulder winced at the rolling sound but didn't move away, didn't look away. C'ansure Mawn looked at him for a long moment before smiling just a little. "A little silver, a little iron. Keeps them all in line," he said, like that should make it clear. Nothing was clear, though. Nothing but the tinkling sound of his every movement and the accompanying groans of pain.
"Stop," Mulder choked, making an involuntary movement, like he meant to silence the bells. C'ansure Mawn tipped his head back and blew smoke up at the ceiling and didn't bother to move away. The harsh light gleamed on the points of his ears. When he moved, the bells shivered like gleeful children, and aliens screamed.
"Didn't you know, Mulder?" He smiled through the smoke. "I'd have thought that perhaps it would be obvious to you. We certainly have not tried to hide this truth from your prying eyes."
A cool hand settled on his shoulder and Mulder turned his head. There was something innately not-right about Scully smiling like that, something innately not-righter about Scully smiling like that in a smoky room, something horribly wrong about Scully smiling like that while bells dripped from her earrings.
But then, this wasn't Scully. No, she'd never been Scully.
"I think that perhaps this was the one truth you never wanted to see," Scule'lye murmured, and the sound of her voice was even more chilling than the alien cries. Mulder shuddered but did not move away.
Could not move away.
"I didn't see it," he said quietly. "I never did see it."
When Scule'lye moved into the light, the shape of her ears was more apparent, was blatantly apparent. "But you see it now," she said. "We have bells for you too, Mulder. You're not Elf, not really--your father rejected the Blood when he married your mother--but you could wear the bells. Wear the bells and rule when They come."
He licked his lips, looked from her beautiful, peaceful face to the wrinkled visage of C'ansure Mawn. "Never," he whispered, and he turned away. In the darkness, alien eyes gleamed at him, glared at him. "I could never rule Them."
Silence, and then a hiss as C'ansure Mawn drew in more cigarette smoke. "Then suffer with them for all I care," he said, and suddenly the delicate ringing of the bells was like fists slamming into Mulder's temples, the faint shivery tinkle of them was like a knife in his heart. He cried out and fell and the whole world seemed to be crying and falling like his whole life had been crying, and falling, and that would be his afterlife, his eternity--
And he awoke to hear the phone blasting away under his pillow.
At first, the drenched cotton didn't make sense and the phone was like a bell hung in his brain and bent on destroying it. Then the cotton morphed into a pillow case and the bell in his brain became a goddammed hangover--those asshole Gunmen and their cheap liquor. He scuttled the phone out from under the pillow, wiped drool from the corner of his mouth and muzzily said, "Scully? Scully, I had the weirdest dream."
"All your dreams are weird, Mulder," she said, her businesslike tone still light with laughter. He started to grin but then he turned his head and caught a faint, acrid bit of a scent, like tar, like cigarette ashes--and he froze. He held his breath. Scully said something about an ironing board and maybe it was just a crazy hallucination, but he could've sworn he heard a faint sound in the background.
The very quiet giggle of a bell, ringing.
I am on so, so much crack. I apologize. No, really I do.
No. I do.
Shut up! What is it with you people and the mockery, anyway!
Hee. *G*
Because when I said, Ces, maybe you should write a series about Chainsmoking Badass Elves what I actually meant was, Ces, I'm going to write you
C'ansure Mawn studied the glowing tip of his lit cigarette. "There are times when it's. Difficult. To live my life," he said. His slow rasp of a voice didn't travel beyond the circle of light that illuminated the table. But when he leaned forward and put his hand out to tap ashes from the cigarrette, the bells that hung from his wrists rang out clearly.
Behind him, in the darkest corner of the room, an alien cried out in pain.
Mulder winced at the rolling sound but didn't move away, didn't look away. C'ansure Mawn looked at him for a long moment before smiling just a little. "A little silver, a little iron. Keeps them all in line," he said, like that should make it clear. Nothing was clear, though. Nothing but the tinkling sound of his every movement and the accompanying groans of pain.
"Stop," Mulder choked, making an involuntary movement, like he meant to silence the bells. C'ansure Mawn tipped his head back and blew smoke up at the ceiling and didn't bother to move away. The harsh light gleamed on the points of his ears. When he moved, the bells shivered like gleeful children, and aliens screamed.
"Didn't you know, Mulder?" He smiled through the smoke. "I'd have thought that perhaps it would be obvious to you. We certainly have not tried to hide this truth from your prying eyes."
A cool hand settled on his shoulder and Mulder turned his head. There was something innately not-right about Scully smiling like that, something innately not-righter about Scully smiling like that in a smoky room, something horribly wrong about Scully smiling like that while bells dripped from her earrings.
But then, this wasn't Scully. No, she'd never been Scully.
"I think that perhaps this was the one truth you never wanted to see," Scule'lye murmured, and the sound of her voice was even more chilling than the alien cries. Mulder shuddered but did not move away.
Could not move away.
"I didn't see it," he said quietly. "I never did see it."
When Scule'lye moved into the light, the shape of her ears was more apparent, was blatantly apparent. "But you see it now," she said. "We have bells for you too, Mulder. You're not Elf, not really--your father rejected the Blood when he married your mother--but you could wear the bells. Wear the bells and rule when They come."
He licked his lips, looked from her beautiful, peaceful face to the wrinkled visage of C'ansure Mawn. "Never," he whispered, and he turned away. In the darkness, alien eyes gleamed at him, glared at him. "I could never rule Them."
Silence, and then a hiss as C'ansure Mawn drew in more cigarette smoke. "Then suffer with them for all I care," he said, and suddenly the delicate ringing of the bells was like fists slamming into Mulder's temples, the faint shivery tinkle of them was like a knife in his heart. He cried out and fell and the whole world seemed to be crying and falling like his whole life had been crying, and falling, and that would be his afterlife, his eternity--
And he awoke to hear the phone blasting away under his pillow.
At first, the drenched cotton didn't make sense and the phone was like a bell hung in his brain and bent on destroying it. Then the cotton morphed into a pillow case and the bell in his brain became a goddammed hangover--those asshole Gunmen and their cheap liquor. He scuttled the phone out from under the pillow, wiped drool from the corner of his mouth and muzzily said, "Scully? Scully, I had the weirdest dream."
"All your dreams are weird, Mulder," she said, her businesslike tone still light with laughter. He started to grin but then he turned his head and caught a faint, acrid bit of a scent, like tar, like cigarette ashes--and he froze. He held his breath. Scully said something about an ironing board and maybe it was just a crazy hallucination, but he could've sworn he heard a faint sound in the background.
The very quiet giggle of a bell, ringing.
I am on so, so much crack. I apologize. No, really I do.
No. I do.
Shut up! What is it with you people and the mockery, anyway!
Hee. *G*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-01-02 08:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-01-02 08:30 pm (UTC)You made me scare my dog.
*boggles*
no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 03:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-01-02 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 03:12 pm (UTC);-)
Dude.
Date: 2003-01-03 12:02 am (UTC)Dude.
::stares in awed amazement::
You are so twisted.
::takes off hat::
Re: Dude.
Date: 2003-01-03 03:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 04:47 am (UTC)Master.
Uh. Mistress?
Anyhow, fantastically sick! I'll have flashbacks for months.
no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 03:17 pm (UTC)That, I think, is the truly fantastic thing. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 06:31 am (UTC)You are *so* on crack, but I love it!
no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 03:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 08:04 pm (UTC)(runs away and cries)
(comes back sniffling)
BTW, it seems like they're taking these Elf stories seriously over on the new Haven. No. Not joking. I guess they've got something against elves.
Damn bigots.
no subject
Date: 2003-01-04 04:55 am (UTC)Taking. The Elf stories. Seriously.
Yeah, I think the concept just made my brain explode. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2003-01-04 07:14 am (UTC)I was going to post a link to your story, but I didn't want to stir the pot. ;-)
I think other posters to the thread realized it was a joke, and were chuckling about it.
I'll find it - give me a bit.
no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 07:45 am (UTC)I wanna see the sequel, now. Ok?
:)
no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 03:22 pm (UTC)