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gen_storyteller2008-01-26 05:59 pm
green-maia.livejournal.com) wrote in gen_storyteller2008-01-26 05:59 pm
Entry tags:
Fanged Four Drabbles
Four drabbles about the Fanged Four as children.
They're in order: Darla first, Liam (Angel) second, Drusilla third, William (Spike) fourth.
Darla is 7 or 8, Liam/Angel about 6, Drusilla 9 or 10, and William/Spike about 5.
Untouchable
She watched from the top of her mountain as they beat her. A child's will must be broken, they said.
A soul could be damned.
But she was not a soul. She was not a body.
She knew. She saw. She saw it all. Every detail. Every pattern.
Her sight was her power and she could not be broken.
She could not be touched.
They could cast her into hell, but it could not hurt her.
She would observe from afar and it would always be fascinating.
She sat on her mountain and laughed. It was all so amusing, really.
*
Fragility
The one who scolded him made her afraid, but he could see no reason for it. He did not understand why she cowered and shrank away.
He hated her.
The one who scolded him preached kindness, but he made her afraid.
He hated him.
He drew a picture of them. She was so small. He loomed over her.
He made a sculpture of them. She cracked.
It was broken. It was always broken. The glass cut him and his blood mingled with his tears.
He wondered if he would ever find a substance that would not shatter at his touch.
*
Mortification
She looked at bodies and saw rotten flesh. She looked at stone and saw it ground to dust. She looked at hearts and saw corruption.
She saw that which must not be spoken and they said she was a devil child.
She sang to her dolls of non-existent worlds where all would be well.
The beads of her rosary wore her fingers raw. Her body grew thin from fasting.
She dreamed she had no hands and no voice, only eyes that saw too much.
She woke and played with her dolls again and covered her eyes and prayed for blindness.
*
Rendering
The dewdrop dissolved in the gleaming sunlight.
Happiness.
The fish was hidden behind the rock.
Safety.
The bird was dead.
Sadness.
Monsters lurked in dark corners
Fear.
The cat ate the mouse.
Devoured.
He was lost and alone and she could not find him.
He shrank into a corner and hoped to remain unseen.
She found him and gathered him into her arms.
He cried.
He surrendered.
"I found you," she said.
But she had not. Not really.
He clung to her.
He wanted to dissolve
He wanted to be invisible.
He feared that he would never truly be found.
*
NOTE: I wrote this in March 2006, right after I had watched BtVS and AtS for the first time. It's the first Buffyverse fan-fiction I ever wrote.
It was first posted on my LJ here.
They're in order: Darla first, Liam (Angel) second, Drusilla third, William (Spike) fourth.
Darla is 7 or 8, Liam/Angel about 6, Drusilla 9 or 10, and William/Spike about 5.
Untouchable
She watched from the top of her mountain as they beat her. A child's will must be broken, they said.
A soul could be damned.
But she was not a soul. She was not a body.
She knew. She saw. She saw it all. Every detail. Every pattern.
Her sight was her power and she could not be broken.
She could not be touched.
They could cast her into hell, but it could not hurt her.
She would observe from afar and it would always be fascinating.
She sat on her mountain and laughed. It was all so amusing, really.
*
Fragility
The one who scolded him made her afraid, but he could see no reason for it. He did not understand why she cowered and shrank away.
He hated her.
The one who scolded him preached kindness, but he made her afraid.
He hated him.
He drew a picture of them. She was so small. He loomed over her.
He made a sculpture of them. She cracked.
It was broken. It was always broken. The glass cut him and his blood mingled with his tears.
He wondered if he would ever find a substance that would not shatter at his touch.
*
Mortification
She looked at bodies and saw rotten flesh. She looked at stone and saw it ground to dust. She looked at hearts and saw corruption.
She saw that which must not be spoken and they said she was a devil child.
She sang to her dolls of non-existent worlds where all would be well.
The beads of her rosary wore her fingers raw. Her body grew thin from fasting.
She dreamed she had no hands and no voice, only eyes that saw too much.
She woke and played with her dolls again and covered her eyes and prayed for blindness.
*
Rendering
The dewdrop dissolved in the gleaming sunlight.
Happiness.
The fish was hidden behind the rock.
Safety.
The bird was dead.
Sadness.
Monsters lurked in dark corners
Fear.
The cat ate the mouse.
Devoured.
He was lost and alone and she could not find him.
He shrank into a corner and hoped to remain unseen.
She found him and gathered him into her arms.
He cried.
He surrendered.
"I found you," she said.
But she had not. Not really.
He clung to her.
He wanted to dissolve
He wanted to be invisible.
He feared that he would never truly be found.
*
NOTE: I wrote this in March 2006, right after I had watched BtVS and AtS for the first time. It's the first Buffyverse fan-fiction I ever wrote.
It was first posted on my LJ here.