[185] "Gunpowder"
May. 5th, 2009 07:36 pmChallenge: [185] Heatwave
Title: Gunpowder
Word Count: 596
Notes: AGRABAH. <3 Also, warning for unplesantness between Jasmine and le Organization of a PG13 nature.
To say it was a dumb theory would be like saying fire and gunpowder shouldn’t sleep together. On a page of proposed theories (single spaced, size 8), this theory was marked as the dumbest. Look - highlights, underlines, circles in red, lots of messy arrows all pointing to and emphasising Dumb.
Maybe there was alcohol involved, maybe not. He can’t remember. But someone (can’t remember that either - not him, in any case) had come up with this idea for retrieving hearts. Their own hearts.
Their hearts were not gone, the theory suggested (if you could squint through all the circles and arrows). They were just… sleeping, dead, in your chest. Give ‘em a jolt. Should someone touch your heart, badum-badum-badum, you could feel it. Just for that instant. Alive again.
There was a princess somewhere on this world that he’d like to, er, badum-badum-badum with. See if she could touch his heart, make it beat.
Of course, there was a lamp somewhere on this world, too. Buried and gaudy and not filled with lantern oil so much as an imprisoned sorcerer-turned-genie who could easily be convinced to cause some raucous. Something to make the trip worthwhile, should this dumb theory fall through. He’d grab the lamp on his way out, then. Give it a little rub, yeah? No need to linger. Truthfully, this world was the stuff of nightmares.
Heat and spice on his tongue, on his skin, on his eyes shut towards the too bright sun. Sweat down his back, in his palms, along his upper lip where he had to taste it, argh. (Somewhere there was a page of proposed member attire. He was going to find the checked tight, black, overbearing leather suggestion, take a red pen, and carve a fucking soliloquy to its dumbness.)
Princesses were easy to find. Even if their homes weren’t conspicuously five times bigger than any other residence, there was something about their heartbeat that just reached out, hooked, and reeled nobodies in. (There was a theory about that, too, which had the brag-worthy joy of being significantly less dumb than its fellow theories.)
This princess was very easy to find. He didn’t even have to lurk through the palace, searching. She was just lounging there on a pile of cushions, silk curtains only barely hiding her from the balcony.
She said a name when his shadow hung over her body, blocking the sun and creating a momentary reprieve from the heat. His silence made her eyes open, languid and soft. The next word from her lips he cut off with his hand over her mouth, tight.
“Shh,” he hushed. His eyes traveled. They wandered a path down her mostly naked skin, sun-kissed and olive and not cracked. Her breasts moved rapidly with her breath, her stomach clenching, her little slippered feet kicking out at him.
He pulled his hand away and quickly replaced it with his own mouth. He swallowed her alarmed shout. Found it to taste rather bitter, huh.
He paused. Waited. Not even a small jolt? Um, heart? Hello?
His chest seemed empty still. Cavernous and rattling and ribcage lonely for want of a heartbeat to cradle.
“S’nothing personal,” he said finally, tugging off his sweat-soaked gloves. “It’s just a dumb theory.”
Her almond eyes burned with hate and frustration and the inability to push him away. His fingers were bare against her dark skin, searing. She was fire. And when he nudged her further on the pile of silks and draped reds and golds, he hoped to all hell that he wasn’t gunpowder.
Title: Gunpowder
Word Count: 596
Notes: AGRABAH. <3 Also, warning for unplesantness between Jasmine and le Organization of a PG13 nature.
To say it was a dumb theory would be like saying fire and gunpowder shouldn’t sleep together. On a page of proposed theories (single spaced, size 8), this theory was marked as the dumbest. Look - highlights, underlines, circles in red, lots of messy arrows all pointing to and emphasising Dumb.
Maybe there was alcohol involved, maybe not. He can’t remember. But someone (can’t remember that either - not him, in any case) had come up with this idea for retrieving hearts. Their own hearts.
Their hearts were not gone, the theory suggested (if you could squint through all the circles and arrows). They were just… sleeping, dead, in your chest. Give ‘em a jolt. Should someone touch your heart, badum-badum-badum, you could feel it. Just for that instant. Alive again.
There was a princess somewhere on this world that he’d like to, er, badum-badum-badum with. See if she could touch his heart, make it beat.
Of course, there was a lamp somewhere on this world, too. Buried and gaudy and not filled with lantern oil so much as an imprisoned sorcerer-turned-genie who could easily be convinced to cause some raucous. Something to make the trip worthwhile, should this dumb theory fall through. He’d grab the lamp on his way out, then. Give it a little rub, yeah? No need to linger. Truthfully, this world was the stuff of nightmares.
Heat and spice on his tongue, on his skin, on his eyes shut towards the too bright sun. Sweat down his back, in his palms, along his upper lip where he had to taste it, argh. (Somewhere there was a page of proposed member attire. He was going to find the checked tight, black, overbearing leather suggestion, take a red pen, and carve a fucking soliloquy to its dumbness.)
Princesses were easy to find. Even if their homes weren’t conspicuously five times bigger than any other residence, there was something about their heartbeat that just reached out, hooked, and reeled nobodies in. (There was a theory about that, too, which had the brag-worthy joy of being significantly less dumb than its fellow theories.)
This princess was very easy to find. He didn’t even have to lurk through the palace, searching. She was just lounging there on a pile of cushions, silk curtains only barely hiding her from the balcony.
She said a name when his shadow hung over her body, blocking the sun and creating a momentary reprieve from the heat. His silence made her eyes open, languid and soft. The next word from her lips he cut off with his hand over her mouth, tight.
“Shh,” he hushed. His eyes traveled. They wandered a path down her mostly naked skin, sun-kissed and olive and not cracked. Her breasts moved rapidly with her breath, her stomach clenching, her little slippered feet kicking out at him.
He pulled his hand away and quickly replaced it with his own mouth. He swallowed her alarmed shout. Found it to taste rather bitter, huh.
He paused. Waited. Not even a small jolt? Um, heart? Hello?
His chest seemed empty still. Cavernous and rattling and ribcage lonely for want of a heartbeat to cradle.
“S’nothing personal,” he said finally, tugging off his sweat-soaked gloves. “It’s just a dumb theory.”
Her almond eyes burned with hate and frustration and the inability to push him away. His fingers were bare against her dark skin, searing. She was fire. And when he nudged her further on the pile of silks and draped reds and golds, he hoped to all hell that he wasn’t gunpowder.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-05 11:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 06:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-05 11:53 pm (UTC)sfiokdfljud
Epic.
I love how you managed to keep this light while touching a darker subject (and who is it supposed to be because my mind shifted through like seven people, I know I know. Dumb question, you probably intended to let us guess).
Still, absolutely beyond lovely. It leaves my slightly speechless and running in circles going "hur hur purty story"
no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 06:21 am (UTC)(I didn't give a name since [as far as I know?] the identity of the Organization member that slips into Agrabah is never revealed. It can be whomever you want, but in my mind it was Xigbar. <3)
no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 12:59 am (UTC)i-i don't think i can pick, actually. the definition of dumb and a princess somewhere on this world that he’d like to, er, badum-badum-badum with and um, heart? hello? and it's so funny even in the midst of being really quite disturbing and.
fabulous works ~ thank you, darling. ♥
no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 06:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 06:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 03:58 am (UTC)Poor Jasmin~ ahhaha "um heart? hello~?" hahahah
no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 06:29 am (UTC)