Dragon Journal (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonjournal) wrote2010-10-11 09:55 pm
dragonjournal) wrote2010-10-11 09:55 pm
Entry tags:
Bingo Spam #4 2/5
Title: Heavy Metal
Prompt: Singing
Rating: PG
Content Note/Warnings: In the same universe as Taking An Interest and Buckshot
“What in all the hells is that?”
Teril wasn’t sure whether to draw his weapon, or go screaming into the forest surrounding the farm. He looked to Fyre. The mage sat there quite calmly making a picture with stitches in a fabric he’d never seen before.
Fyre chuckled at him and he clamped his wings to his back. He was never sure if she was making fun of him, or just found something funny. Maybe both.
“That is something Rissa calls ‘heavy metal’.” Fyre continued making the small stitches, consulting a piece of paper in her lap. “I don’t understand why, but she claimed it helps her clean.”
“Is she cleaning one of the children with a scrub brush?” Teril had been around when she’d done that with her second eldest, Tara, because the girl had gotten into something that had smelled like the backend of the reclamation unit of a scout ship.
“No. She said something about the oven.” Fyre seemed perfectly content to sit there and listen to whatever the music was. Of course, her hearing wasn’t nearly as sensitive as his.
Actually, Teril would concede that the music wasn’t too bad. There was a good beat – if a little heavy-handed for his liking – and he did like the guitar. No, his problem was whoever’s voice that was butchering what he assumed was the lyrics to the song.
He really hoped no one paid to listen to singing like that.
A high note was reached for. It fell spectacularly flat. Teril saw even Fyre wince at that. Maybe she wasn’t as immune as he’d thought.
He took a cautious step toward the screen door and peered inside. Instead of hearing just the song, he realized just who was singing.
Rissa was many things: A prosperous farmer, a wonderful mother, becoming a good friend, a decent cook, and a savvy business woman.
The one thing she wasn’t? A singer.
“I’m going to go see if I can find Tana.” The Messenger hadn’t been seen in a week. Not that that was unusual for her, but if she was going to be his Messenger, the least she could do was check in every now and again.
And not when he was sleeping, or bathing. And the one time she’d done it when he was hunting had been more than a little annoying.
Teril was pretty sure that the Dragon Father was punishing him for something by sticking him with her. He just didn’t know what.
“Have fun.” Fyre merely murmured, still bent over her sewing.
Teril stepped down off the porch, away from the singing that continued to float out the screen door from inside the house. When he glanced back at Fyre, he noticed the bright orange foam sticking out of her ears and couldn’t help but laugh.
Prompt: Singing
Rating: PG
Content Note/Warnings: In the same universe as Taking An Interest and Buckshot
“What in all the hells is that?”
Teril wasn’t sure whether to draw his weapon, or go screaming into the forest surrounding the farm. He looked to Fyre. The mage sat there quite calmly making a picture with stitches in a fabric he’d never seen before.
Fyre chuckled at him and he clamped his wings to his back. He was never sure if she was making fun of him, or just found something funny. Maybe both.
“That is something Rissa calls ‘heavy metal’.” Fyre continued making the small stitches, consulting a piece of paper in her lap. “I don’t understand why, but she claimed it helps her clean.”
“Is she cleaning one of the children with a scrub brush?” Teril had been around when she’d done that with her second eldest, Tara, because the girl had gotten into something that had smelled like the backend of the reclamation unit of a scout ship.
“No. She said something about the oven.” Fyre seemed perfectly content to sit there and listen to whatever the music was. Of course, her hearing wasn’t nearly as sensitive as his.
Actually, Teril would concede that the music wasn’t too bad. There was a good beat – if a little heavy-handed for his liking – and he did like the guitar. No, his problem was whoever’s voice that was butchering what he assumed was the lyrics to the song.
He really hoped no one paid to listen to singing like that.
A high note was reached for. It fell spectacularly flat. Teril saw even Fyre wince at that. Maybe she wasn’t as immune as he’d thought.
He took a cautious step toward the screen door and peered inside. Instead of hearing just the song, he realized just who was singing.
Rissa was many things: A prosperous farmer, a wonderful mother, becoming a good friend, a decent cook, and a savvy business woman.
The one thing she wasn’t? A singer.
“I’m going to go see if I can find Tana.” The Messenger hadn’t been seen in a week. Not that that was unusual for her, but if she was going to be his Messenger, the least she could do was check in every now and again.
And not when he was sleeping, or bathing. And the one time she’d done it when he was hunting had been more than a little annoying.
Teril was pretty sure that the Dragon Father was punishing him for something by sticking him with her. He just didn’t know what.
“Have fun.” Fyre merely murmured, still bent over her sewing.
Teril stepped down off the porch, away from the singing that continued to float out the screen door from inside the house. When he glanced back at Fyre, he noticed the bright orange foam sticking out of her ears and couldn’t help but laugh.
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...Tana is the reworked Moon!me? O_o
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And yeah. If I redid it... it would look completely different. I love our cracky/fanficcy Moon, but... maybe, for something more original, I can redo it.
... WHY AM I CONTEMPLATING THIS?
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