Re: log: connie/atticus
Ah, Meatloaf. Connie sighed happily and nodded, giving two thumbs up, knuckles squishing the cheeks of her face as she smiled peacefully. No creepy smile, no ironic millennial scoff. Meatloaf was sacred ground and Bat Out of Hell was something she listened to on repeat as a teenager to feel better about the whole time travel thing. And maybe the morphing into a skeleton thing, too. Meatloaf transcended generations. Meatloaf deserved to be on that record Carl Sagan sent up into space.
She listened to the song for a little while and then to the lyrics of If you'd just believe in me, Connie tossed her cookie in the air and reached across the couch to grab his arm. Suddenly, time slowed and Meatloaf's voice stretched out like taffy, low and haunting. The cookie barely spun in the air, suspended there between them. "My father built a time machine. I fucked with it. He's lost in time and I'm- I'm this now." Connie told him and then she slowed time to a complete stop. There was no sound, like they had just transported into space. The room got a little darker.
Her face seemed to melt away and all that was left was a skeleton with fiery blue eyes. Her voice was impossibly deep, like it was given a thousand layers, and maybe in the far, far distance, something like computers farting could be heard. She winked at him and then everything sped back up, Meatloaf was back to normal and the cookie was in her mouth. Her totally normal, not skeleton mouth. She munched, residually brightly blue eyes wide with worry he'd freak out.