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31_days2006-10-09 08:29 pm
acesodapop.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-10-09 08:29 pm
09 october . original . prologue to fighting music
Title: prologue to fighting music
Day/Theme: 9 oct // every day is the end of the world
Series: original
Character/Pairing: drew, nathan, rebecca, the usual vigilante underground rebel resistance group
Rating: pg-13 for mild cussin' and (implied?) explosions!
The air was filled with the noise of expensive glass clinking against other glasses and rich people in expensive suits laughing, with one hand (covered in expensive jewels and watches) half-obscuring the mouth, so as to politely protect a companion from seeing something so vulgar and common as teeth and tongue and tonsils.
"Assorted filth," she explained to the newcomer, Drew, with a sneer, "dressed up in fancy furs."
"Let's not tire the newbie out already with your well-known hatred of the upper-bourgeoisie, Becks." Nathan calmly adjusted the final straps attached to Drew's vest. "Feeling nervous, kid?"
Drew swallowed. "A little." Beads of sweat remained just out of sight under his thick blonde bangs.
"How's our B regiment?" Rebecca spoke into the transmittor. "Everything going-- haha, breezy?"
"You're an idiot, Rebecca, and that wasn't even a good pun. I'm a godforsaken bush. Could there be more leaves on this thing? It's giving me a rash."
"Ignore them," Nathan smiled confidingly in his young (silently panicking) protégé, the reflection off the chandelier lights below creating a sinister glare on his square-framed glasses. "Everything'll go smoothly, I promise. Rebecca alone ran the practice drill six times, you'll be fine."
"Governor's going to get a right nice little shock by the end of tonight," Rebecca cackled, pulling down the zipper of her body suit. She stepped out in heels and a black dress sparkling with sequins.
"Wow, Becks," Nathan observed, with a slight tone that could've been either approving or disappointed, "you look like a girl."
She made an obscene gesture with her left hand. Nathan knowingly looked at Drew, who tried for a grin and ended up more like with a clenched grimace of pain.
"Well, it's time." Nathan kept one eye on his watch, the other on the idyllic going-ons below their feet. He quickly retreated to a corner with solid cement under his shoes; Rebecca had long disappeared, the last glimpse a shock of red hair descending down the fire escape stairs. Drew lifted the bat Nathan had given him in the car and lightly tested the sturdy glass beneath him. He thought he saw a few faces now occasionally glancing up impatiently at the ceiling towards him, faces he had never even seen before. One even gave him a discreet thumbs-up and disappeared immediately after into the crowd.
At Nathan's signal, Drew clicked the button set on his vest. A timer appeared on the screen located in front of his navel-- 1:45. His vest thrummed with energy (and maybe his own uncontrollable shaking, oh God he had twenty explosives tied to his abdomen right now).
"Ready?"
"I think I just wet myself."
"Atta boy!" Nathan said brightly. "Hit it, kiddo." Drew raised the bat and, with all his effort, swung down.
*
Day/Theme: 9 oct // every day is the end of the world
Series: original
Character/Pairing: drew, nathan, rebecca, the usual vigilante underground rebel resistance group
Rating: pg-13 for mild cussin' and (implied?) explosions!
The air was filled with the noise of expensive glass clinking against other glasses and rich people in expensive suits laughing, with one hand (covered in expensive jewels and watches) half-obscuring the mouth, so as to politely protect a companion from seeing something so vulgar and common as teeth and tongue and tonsils.
"Assorted filth," she explained to the newcomer, Drew, with a sneer, "dressed up in fancy furs."
"Let's not tire the newbie out already with your well-known hatred of the upper-bourgeoisie, Becks." Nathan calmly adjusted the final straps attached to Drew's vest. "Feeling nervous, kid?"
Drew swallowed. "A little." Beads of sweat remained just out of sight under his thick blonde bangs.
"How's our B regiment?" Rebecca spoke into the transmittor. "Everything going-- haha, breezy?"
"You're an idiot, Rebecca, and that wasn't even a good pun. I'm a godforsaken bush. Could there be more leaves on this thing? It's giving me a rash."
"Ignore them," Nathan smiled confidingly in his young (silently panicking) protégé, the reflection off the chandelier lights below creating a sinister glare on his square-framed glasses. "Everything'll go smoothly, I promise. Rebecca alone ran the practice drill six times, you'll be fine."
"Governor's going to get a right nice little shock by the end of tonight," Rebecca cackled, pulling down the zipper of her body suit. She stepped out in heels and a black dress sparkling with sequins.
"Wow, Becks," Nathan observed, with a slight tone that could've been either approving or disappointed, "you look like a girl."
She made an obscene gesture with her left hand. Nathan knowingly looked at Drew, who tried for a grin and ended up more like with a clenched grimace of pain.
"Well, it's time." Nathan kept one eye on his watch, the other on the idyllic going-ons below their feet. He quickly retreated to a corner with solid cement under his shoes; Rebecca had long disappeared, the last glimpse a shock of red hair descending down the fire escape stairs. Drew lifted the bat Nathan had given him in the car and lightly tested the sturdy glass beneath him. He thought he saw a few faces now occasionally glancing up impatiently at the ceiling towards him, faces he had never even seen before. One even gave him a discreet thumbs-up and disappeared immediately after into the crowd.
At Nathan's signal, Drew clicked the button set on his vest. A timer appeared on the screen located in front of his navel-- 1:45. His vest thrummed with energy (and maybe his own uncontrollable shaking, oh God he had twenty explosives tied to his abdomen right now).
"Ready?"
"I think I just wet myself."
"Atta boy!" Nathan said brightly. "Hit it, kiddo." Drew raised the bat and, with all his effort, swung down.
*