I Resist the Muses

It's a myth.

I guess you'll have to figure it out all on your own.



Muse: Warren Peace
Fandom: "Sky High"
Words: 127

I am Jaenelle, and I understand that it doesn't give you any more of a clue as to who I am.


Muse: Jaenelle Angelline SaDiablo
Fandom: "Black Jewels" by Anne Bishop
Words: 261

Hell if I know, but I'm learning.


Muse: Kitty "Shadowcat" Pryde
Fandom: X-Men AU
Words: 167

Who Am I?

Muse: Guinevere
Fandom: King Arthur movies, books and mythologies
Words: 119

Who Am I?


Muse: Jo Harvelle
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Words: 115

You know, that's a question that would've been a lot easier to answer a few months ago . . .

Character: Kennedy
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Words: 364

[public]

Two Jedi walk into a bar...

No, truly. I cannot help a modest chuckle when Anakin and I cross the threshold into some smoky tavern on lowest level Coruscant, one that no law-abiding citizen would frequent, and every denizen within blows away their glitterstim dust or reaches for their blasters. Sometimes both. That reaction is a bit of a thrill, I admit, though it says terrible things about the Order. Are we Jedi nothing now but the long arms of the Republic?

Still, the looks on their faces as we demand the most rotgut drinks available only feeds my amusement. Sometimes we "drink" on the Order's behalf, and the alcohol disappears by sleight of hand. More often it burns all the way down. If I can stand by the third glass, their amazement is sure to set me grinning. If, on the other hand, I must lean heavily on Anakin's arm by the time we leave...

There's nothing like it: my head lolling back as he flies us up and up and home, the glitter of Coruscant so far above, the stars above the planet visible only from the gutter. In those moments, real laughter finally comes, inevitable. The war does not exist. The Order does not exist. The past does not exist, nor the future. There is only one breath in my lungs at a time, one heartbeat per instant, and the best and most reckless pilot in all the quadrants at my side, bitching about my irresponsibility for a change.

And I can't help but laugh. I can't.

I don't want to.

...

I just realized how often I've mentioned drinking here. That's not meant to imply... hmph. It doesn't mean anything.


---284 words, comments welcome, let's play!---

I am Prodigy, groomed by Crawford himself in the proper way of our work.

For a long time, a very long time, I did not laugh. I even believed that I was no longer capable of laughter. After Findekano's death, I wept often. Occasionally I could be coaxed to smile, but I never laughed.

Now, here in modern Arda, I am reborn and I am once again accustomed to his absence. Once again, for a very long time, I did not laugh.

And then I met a stranger in the bar of this hotel, and something unexpected happened. He made me smile. He made me laugh. He has a sharp, dark wit and a wicked sense of humour, which can make me laugh without fail. I find myself thinking about him constantly when he's not here, and when he is here, I am relaxed, happy, and comfortable in his company. And the sex, of course, is wonderful, but laughing during sex (no matter how happy he makes me feel) is rather rude.

Yes, it seems that this grouchy old elf has actually fallen in love again.

Comments Welcome