ext_76778 (
of-carabas.livejournal.com) wrote in
31_days2005-09-24 11:24 pm
[September 24] [Near Dark] A Thousand Miles (20/26)
Title: A Thousand Miles (20/26)
Day/Theme: September 24th/Almost gothic
Series: Near Dark
Characters: Diamondback, Homer/Mae
Rating: PG
When Diamondback had been in school, she'd swap dime novels and pulp magazines with her friends. For a while, gothic stories had been all the rage. Creeping horrors, beautiful and tragic maidens - beautiful horrors, sometimes.
Most of the time, when she looked at Homer, all she saw was her little boy. But sometimes, she looked at him and saw something out of those dime novels. She thought of the creatures who stalked the world disguised in human form. Thought of the tales of hideously disfigured men, monstrous, who'd fall in love with lovely, untouchable maidens.
And then she looked at this little boy who wasn't a little boy at all, much as she tried to convince herself otherwise. And she looked at the way he clung to Mae, not in the manner of a little boy reaching out to a beloved sibling, an older protector. He clung to Mae in the way of an awkward teenager desperately seeking a companion - yet knowing that it would never work out. Knowing, and hoping despite of it.
It was almost gothic.
Day/Theme: September 24th/Almost gothic
Series: Near Dark
Characters: Diamondback, Homer/Mae
Rating: PG
When Diamondback had been in school, she'd swap dime novels and pulp magazines with her friends. For a while, gothic stories had been all the rage. Creeping horrors, beautiful and tragic maidens - beautiful horrors, sometimes.
Most of the time, when she looked at Homer, all she saw was her little boy. But sometimes, she looked at him and saw something out of those dime novels. She thought of the creatures who stalked the world disguised in human form. Thought of the tales of hideously disfigured men, monstrous, who'd fall in love with lovely, untouchable maidens.
And then she looked at this little boy who wasn't a little boy at all, much as she tried to convince herself otherwise. And she looked at the way he clung to Mae, not in the manner of a little boy reaching out to a beloved sibling, an older protector. He clung to Mae in the way of an awkward teenager desperately seeking a companion - yet knowing that it would never work out. Knowing, and hoping despite of it.
It was almost gothic.
