Some Kind of Divine Right To The Blues
Mar. 20th, 2005 08:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alfvaenI've been behind on the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15minuteficlets assignments. We had a Cult of Pain meeting last night, so I wanted to get caught up. I did two fifteen-minute sessions on words, but I didn't get to the picture one. (They have pictures??) And then I didn't have time to post them before the meeting last night. Anyway, here they are:
Word: Undeniable
He looked down the street he'd just turned onto and saw the approaching police car. The siren dopplered as it approached him, but continued dopplering once the car screeched to a halt a few feet away from him. The flashing lights on top of the car began to spin faster, then popped. Finally the siren shrieked out of the range of audibility, and sparks flew from the dashboard.
The officers, a man and a woman, scrambled out of the vehicle. "What the hell is going on here?" the man said. He looked at Warren, eyes narrowed, hoping he could be blamed for it. Warren knew that he actually could, on some level, but he didn't think the officer would believe it.
"I don't think the radio's going to work any more," the woman said, looking at the smoking dashboard.
The man nodded. "I'll try using my cell," he said. He pulled out his cell phone.
"Don't!" Warren said. "You don't understand what's going on here?"
"Just keep calm, sir," the woman said. "I'm Officer Cyrus, and this is Officer Morris. Now, can you tell us what _is_ going on here?"
"Everything's...breaking," Warren said. "Everything technological. Watches, cell phones, parking meters, cars--it's all breaking down. That's probably what happened to your car."
"Cell phones?" Cyrus turned to her partner, just as Morris's cell phone split apart in his hand.
He dropped it, shaking burned fingers, then rubbing at the scratch on the side of his face. "Son of a bitch!" he said feelingly.
Just then the men who'd been chasing Warren came around the corner. They slowed down, but didn't stop, when they saw the police.
"Is there a problem here?" Morris said.
"This guy's doin' it!" one of the pickup boys said. "Wherever he goes, things break! He's some kinda alien or spy or somethin'!"
"Don't be absurd," Morris said. "In any case. We're handling it now. Please step away." When they didn't stop, he unsnapped his holster. "Now, gentlemen."
At that moment, Morris's gun exploded on his hip, like every round in it went off at the same time. The police officer was quickly obscured in a haze of gunsmoke. Cyrus, thinking quickly, unbuckled her gunbelt quickly and tossed it on the ground, where it exploded a few seconds later.
"I'm no alien," Warren said, "but apart from that, they're right. Whatever's happening, I'm spreading it. And I've spread it to other people. But I don't know why it's happening! I don't know where I got this from!"
Cyrus had moved over to Morris's side. "I can't deny that something strange is going on," she said. "Jesus, this looks bad." She raised her voice. "Anybody have any medical training?"
To Warren's surprise, one of the pickup boys stepped forward, waving away the smoke. "Yeah, I do. I used to work on the rigs, and I took some first aid courses."
Word: Juvenile
"Good," Cyrus said. "Now, you heard what this man--"
"Warren," Warren said.
"--Warren said. If, as you say, it's spreading to other people, then we have no idea who the initial vector was."
"Yeah," the other pickup boy said. "Sorry about that. It's just so crazy, you know? No hard feelings?"
"Sure," Warren said. He shook his hand.
"I'm Rick, and my buddy with the medic training is Brian. And any way we can help..."
"Thank you both," Cyrus said. "Feel free to call me Elaine, by the way. I never got used to the 'Officer' crap. Or being called by my last name."
"So what's our next move?" Warren said.
"Frankly," Elaine said, "I don't know what to do. This is a little beyond our training."
"Shit!" Brian said. He'd stripped off his shirt and was trying to use it to bind Officer Morris's wound, with a tourniquet from his belt, but Warren could see that the shirt was already soaked with blood. "I think it got his fuckin' artery. I'd say we need a real doctor here, and pretty fuckin' quick."
"I'll go see if I can find one," Rick said. He dashed back around the corner.
"Dammit," Elaine said. "With all the chaos on Jasper Avenue, I doubt he'll be able to find anyone that's not already busy. Is there anything I can do?"
"Not a hell of a lot," Brian said. He looked scared, and Warren realized how young he was, barely more than a teenager. His arms were streaked with blood, as he tried to put as much pressure as he could on the binding.
Elaine and Warren could do nothing but stand and watch as Officer Morris bled out with disconcerting swiftness. By the time Rick returned, bruised and empty-handed, Brian had closed his eyes.
I killed him, Warren realized. And how many others? Anybody killed by a falling elevator, or hit by a car, or burned by an exploding cell phone? But it's really not my fault.
"Any of you got a criminal record?" Elaine asked suddenly, looking at Morris's corpse.
"I, uh, spent some time in juvie," Rick said. "That count?"
"No," Elaine said. "Okay. I'm deputizing you all for the duration of the emergency. As I understand it, we're all carrying whatever this is anyway, so it doesn't matter who had it first. What we have to do is, somehow, figure out how to contain this, if possible, and communicate with the authorities and try to find out what's going on and how to stop it."
"But we can't use telephones, or email, or anything, because we'll break them," Brian said.
As you can see, I'm really struggling to incorporate the words, which means that the story has already taken on a life of its own...
15minuteficlets assignments. We had a Cult of Pain meeting last night, so I wanted to get caught up. I did two fifteen-minute sessions on words, but I didn't get to the picture one. (They have pictures??) And then I didn't have time to post them before the meeting last night. Anyway, here they are:Word: Undeniable
He looked down the street he'd just turned onto and saw the approaching police car. The siren dopplered as it approached him, but continued dopplering once the car screeched to a halt a few feet away from him. The flashing lights on top of the car began to spin faster, then popped. Finally the siren shrieked out of the range of audibility, and sparks flew from the dashboard.
The officers, a man and a woman, scrambled out of the vehicle. "What the hell is going on here?" the man said. He looked at Warren, eyes narrowed, hoping he could be blamed for it. Warren knew that he actually could, on some level, but he didn't think the officer would believe it.
"I don't think the radio's going to work any more," the woman said, looking at the smoking dashboard.
The man nodded. "I'll try using my cell," he said. He pulled out his cell phone.
"Don't!" Warren said. "You don't understand what's going on here?"
"Just keep calm, sir," the woman said. "I'm Officer Cyrus, and this is Officer Morris. Now, can you tell us what _is_ going on here?"
"Everything's...breaking," Warren said. "Everything technological. Watches, cell phones, parking meters, cars--it's all breaking down. That's probably what happened to your car."
"Cell phones?" Cyrus turned to her partner, just as Morris's cell phone split apart in his hand.
He dropped it, shaking burned fingers, then rubbing at the scratch on the side of his face. "Son of a bitch!" he said feelingly.
Just then the men who'd been chasing Warren came around the corner. They slowed down, but didn't stop, when they saw the police.
"Is there a problem here?" Morris said.
"This guy's doin' it!" one of the pickup boys said. "Wherever he goes, things break! He's some kinda alien or spy or somethin'!"
"Don't be absurd," Morris said. "In any case. We're handling it now. Please step away." When they didn't stop, he unsnapped his holster. "Now, gentlemen."
At that moment, Morris's gun exploded on his hip, like every round in it went off at the same time. The police officer was quickly obscured in a haze of gunsmoke. Cyrus, thinking quickly, unbuckled her gunbelt quickly and tossed it on the ground, where it exploded a few seconds later.
"I'm no alien," Warren said, "but apart from that, they're right. Whatever's happening, I'm spreading it. And I've spread it to other people. But I don't know why it's happening! I don't know where I got this from!"
Cyrus had moved over to Morris's side. "I can't deny that something strange is going on," she said. "Jesus, this looks bad." She raised her voice. "Anybody have any medical training?"
To Warren's surprise, one of the pickup boys stepped forward, waving away the smoke. "Yeah, I do. I used to work on the rigs, and I took some first aid courses."
Word: Juvenile
"Good," Cyrus said. "Now, you heard what this man--"
"Warren," Warren said.
"--Warren said. If, as you say, it's spreading to other people, then we have no idea who the initial vector was."
"Yeah," the other pickup boy said. "Sorry about that. It's just so crazy, you know? No hard feelings?"
"Sure," Warren said. He shook his hand.
"I'm Rick, and my buddy with the medic training is Brian. And any way we can help..."
"Thank you both," Cyrus said. "Feel free to call me Elaine, by the way. I never got used to the 'Officer' crap. Or being called by my last name."
"So what's our next move?" Warren said.
"Frankly," Elaine said, "I don't know what to do. This is a little beyond our training."
"Shit!" Brian said. He'd stripped off his shirt and was trying to use it to bind Officer Morris's wound, with a tourniquet from his belt, but Warren could see that the shirt was already soaked with blood. "I think it got his fuckin' artery. I'd say we need a real doctor here, and pretty fuckin' quick."
"I'll go see if I can find one," Rick said. He dashed back around the corner.
"Dammit," Elaine said. "With all the chaos on Jasper Avenue, I doubt he'll be able to find anyone that's not already busy. Is there anything I can do?"
"Not a hell of a lot," Brian said. He looked scared, and Warren realized how young he was, barely more than a teenager. His arms were streaked with blood, as he tried to put as much pressure as he could on the binding.
Elaine and Warren could do nothing but stand and watch as Officer Morris bled out with disconcerting swiftness. By the time Rick returned, bruised and empty-handed, Brian had closed his eyes.
I killed him, Warren realized. And how many others? Anybody killed by a falling elevator, or hit by a car, or burned by an exploding cell phone? But it's really not my fault.
"Any of you got a criminal record?" Elaine asked suddenly, looking at Morris's corpse.
"I, uh, spent some time in juvie," Rick said. "That count?"
"No," Elaine said. "Okay. I'm deputizing you all for the duration of the emergency. As I understand it, we're all carrying whatever this is anyway, so it doesn't matter who had it first. What we have to do is, somehow, figure out how to contain this, if possible, and communicate with the authorities and try to find out what's going on and how to stop it."
"But we can't use telephones, or email, or anything, because we'll break them," Brian said.
As you can see, I'm really struggling to incorporate the words, which means that the story has already taken on a life of its own...
