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taxonomites2010-06-18 11:50 am
greenballadeer.livejournal.com) wrote in taxonomites2010-06-18 11:50 am
5. [Location: Hyperion] [Voice] A song of world's ending
It's the middle of the night, and Lorne can't sleep.
The shadows have eyes, and they are watching him.
After hours of tossing and turning, he finally gives up and rolls out of bed. Stares at his bedside clock through bleary eyes. It's well past midnight. He slips a bathrobe over his stripey pajamas, puts on a pair of fuzzy pink slippers, and shuffles out to the bar. Turns on the pink lamps, but they only make it worse, since shadows can only exist where there's light. Still, there's no way he's turning them off.
Lorne pours himself a shot of peach schnapps and downs it, reveling in the sweet burn. His eyes are drawn to the empty stage, only to discover that it's not so empty. There's something shifting behind the curtain.
The curtain ripples, and silhouettes pour out to the edges of the stage. One of them steps into the middle, where it's dimly illuminated by the lamps, but not enough to make out anything more than the moldering outline of a corpse.
Then, all at once, the ghosts begin to sing, and Lorne's world falls apart.
Caritas, a pile of colorful rubble in the street. Castle Summers in ruins, its towers torched. Even the Sanctuary is a shambles. The air reeks of smoke, decay, blood, and charred flesh.
But the streets are the worst sight of all, because the people of Taxon are tearing each other apart. Weapons fire at a car zooming through Osten. In the shadow of a wrecked building, two vampires snarl as they wrestle for dominance like wild animals. Everything is chaos. Screams rend the air like knives tearing through cloth. Piles of the dead lie rotting in open graves.
Soon, the entire city will be a grave.
The song ends, and Lorne collapses, trembling, against the bar. He catches one last glimpse of the ghost in the middle of the stage. Its face is strangely familiar. At the sight of it, he leans over a trash can and retches, bringing up black bile.
When his senses return to him at last, Lorne keys up the tablet on his wrist and sets it to voice. He feels so terrible right now he can't let all of Taxon see his face. "I got a musical message from our ghostly friends. Apocalypse. Second verse same as the first." He lets out a shuddering breath. "But I got something new to add. It's not all the hamsters' fault. The people of Taxon?" He stares grimly into the tablet. "We're all fighting each other."
"By the way, team? I'm coming to the Hyperion. I hope you'll all join me. 'Cause all that fighting I saw? Not gonna happen."
He takes off as fast as he can in his fluffy pink slippers toward the tram. No time for a snappy suit. At this time of night, the tram is mercifully empty of Extras. As he gets out of the tram and approaches the Hyperion, he feels a flutter of apprehension about seeing Angel again.
Then sets it aside. All animosities have to go.
Clad in pinstriped pajamas, a purple silk bathrobe, and slippers, he opens the doors to the Hyperion.
The shadows have eyes, and they are watching him.
After hours of tossing and turning, he finally gives up and rolls out of bed. Stares at his bedside clock through bleary eyes. It's well past midnight. He slips a bathrobe over his stripey pajamas, puts on a pair of fuzzy pink slippers, and shuffles out to the bar. Turns on the pink lamps, but they only make it worse, since shadows can only exist where there's light. Still, there's no way he's turning them off.
Lorne pours himself a shot of peach schnapps and downs it, reveling in the sweet burn. His eyes are drawn to the empty stage, only to discover that it's not so empty. There's something shifting behind the curtain.
The curtain ripples, and silhouettes pour out to the edges of the stage. One of them steps into the middle, where it's dimly illuminated by the lamps, but not enough to make out anything more than the moldering outline of a corpse.
Then, all at once, the ghosts begin to sing, and Lorne's world falls apart.
Caritas, a pile of colorful rubble in the street. Castle Summers in ruins, its towers torched. Even the Sanctuary is a shambles. The air reeks of smoke, decay, blood, and charred flesh.
But the streets are the worst sight of all, because the people of Taxon are tearing each other apart. Weapons fire at a car zooming through Osten. In the shadow of a wrecked building, two vampires snarl as they wrestle for dominance like wild animals. Everything is chaos. Screams rend the air like knives tearing through cloth. Piles of the dead lie rotting in open graves.
Soon, the entire city will be a grave.
The song ends, and Lorne collapses, trembling, against the bar. He catches one last glimpse of the ghost in the middle of the stage. Its face is strangely familiar. At the sight of it, he leans over a trash can and retches, bringing up black bile.
When his senses return to him at last, Lorne keys up the tablet on his wrist and sets it to voice. He feels so terrible right now he can't let all of Taxon see his face. "I got a musical message from our ghostly friends. Apocalypse. Second verse same as the first." He lets out a shuddering breath. "But I got something new to add. It's not all the hamsters' fault. The people of Taxon?" He stares grimly into the tablet. "We're all fighting each other."
"By the way, team? I'm coming to the Hyperion. I hope you'll all join me. 'Cause all that fighting I saw? Not gonna happen."
He takes off as fast as he can in his fluffy pink slippers toward the tram. No time for a snappy suit. At this time of night, the tram is mercifully empty of Extras. As he gets out of the tram and approaches the Hyperion, he feels a flutter of apprehension about seeing Angel again.
Then sets it aside. All animosities have to go.
Clad in pinstriped pajamas, a purple silk bathrobe, and slippers, he opens the doors to the Hyperion.
[Visual]
"I will, Lorne," she said, "And when this is over, I'll finally get to Caritas for that drink."