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Two unconnected Buffyverse drabbles for
open_on_sunday's prompt "bottle":
Sense Memory ("A New Man", Giles/Ethan)
The satisfaction of watching Ethan get thrown into a car and driven off to God knows where carries Giles through the clean-up of his apartment after the demon's… his rampage. Up until he sits down with a bottle of single malt.
It's always tasted of home over here. Vaguely British, somehow. Tonight, though, the taste is more specific.
Smoke. Sweat.
Cold, damp student rooms.
Skin.
Music.
Warmth.
The look on Ethan's face when he walked out. Not entirely unlike the one he caught through a rear window today.
He sweeps up the shattered bottle. It's alright. He has more scotch.
Needs More Robin Williams (s5)
"I knew we shouldn't have opened Giles' old wine bottle," Willow whimpered as the newly liberated jinni wrecked the Magic Box.
"Regrets later, OK, Will? Just find a spell to put him back in it."
"I'm trying! Ancient Arabic doesn't even write out vowels!" Willow shuffled frantically through a pile of parchments, trying various spells that did nothing but repeatedly open and close the front door.
Buffy held out the bottle. "Heeeere, Jinni-Jinni! …No? OK, hard way it is, then." She looked at the 7 foot jinni, then back at the bottle. "DAWN! Get me a funnel and a mallet!"
And a Doctor Who drabble for
brutti_ma_buoni's Ragnarökathon and the prompt "the song of the twilight of the gods".
Wir sind die Roboter (Ten, Martha)
Martha listened in disbelief. "…This is the song of the gods?"
The Doctor shrugged. "Well, not of the gods, mortal ears wouldn’t be able to stand their music. Dreadfully dull. But apparently, as human music goes, this is what they listen to."
"Really?"
"Oh, really. Gods tend to be big on order and perfection. No human fallibility and all that. They used to be into Bach, but apparently they really love Kraftwerk."
They listened for a few minutes as The Man Machine blasted across the heavens.
"Now, where were we? Oh! Right! End of the world. Let's stop it, eh?"
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Sense Memory ("A New Man", Giles/Ethan)
The satisfaction of watching Ethan get thrown into a car and driven off to God knows where carries Giles through the clean-up of his apartment after the demon's… his rampage. Up until he sits down with a bottle of single malt.
It's always tasted of home over here. Vaguely British, somehow. Tonight, though, the taste is more specific.
Smoke. Sweat.
Cold, damp student rooms.
Skin.
Music.
Warmth.
The look on Ethan's face when he walked out. Not entirely unlike the one he caught through a rear window today.
He sweeps up the shattered bottle. It's alright. He has more scotch.
Needs More Robin Williams (s5)
"I knew we shouldn't have opened Giles' old wine bottle," Willow whimpered as the newly liberated jinni wrecked the Magic Box.
"Regrets later, OK, Will? Just find a spell to put him back in it."
"I'm trying! Ancient Arabic doesn't even write out vowels!" Willow shuffled frantically through a pile of parchments, trying various spells that did nothing but repeatedly open and close the front door.
Buffy held out the bottle. "Heeeere, Jinni-Jinni! …No? OK, hard way it is, then." She looked at the 7 foot jinni, then back at the bottle. "DAWN! Get me a funnel and a mallet!"
And a Doctor Who drabble for
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Wir sind die Roboter (Ten, Martha)
Martha listened in disbelief. "…This is the song of the gods?"
The Doctor shrugged. "Well, not of the gods, mortal ears wouldn’t be able to stand their music. Dreadfully dull. But apparently, as human music goes, this is what they listen to."
"Really?"
"Oh, really. Gods tend to be big on order and perfection. No human fallibility and all that. They used to be into Bach, but apparently they really love Kraftwerk."
They listened for a few minutes as The Man Machine blasted across the heavens.
"Now, where were we? Oh! Right! End of the world. Let's stop it, eh?"
no subject
Date: 2014-02-23 10:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-23 10:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-23 05:09 pm (UTC)I figure any gods in the Whoniverse wouldn't be much for musicthat depends on improvisation and unpredictablity. (Which isn't to say I don't love Kraftwerk, but...)