http://notyourchauffer.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] notyourchauffer.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] singularityderp2011-09-29 09:48 pm
Entry tags:

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the song drabble meme



It's pretty simple and fun, folks. This is how this works!

( 01 ) Have a playlist ready! Don't use all your songs--try and narrow it down a little.
( 02 ) Let everyone know how many songs you're working with. Also, which characters you would be willing to write about.
( 03 ) Others tag your post, picking a character or pairing or friendship or familial relationship or whatever, and then choose a number from your list.
( 04 ) Write a drabble related to that song, using that/those character(s)!

Take as long as you need; there's no time limits here!
And here's some helpful HTML to make it pretty!


[identity profile] reunified.livejournal.com 2011-10-01 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
This is heinously cute.

[identity profile] eighttotwelve.livejournal.com 2011-10-01 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
Anything for AM?
namesnotprowl: ((Text) Sleazy)

Barricade and Alex, 69. The worst title you could ever get as #69 is...

[personal profile] namesnotprowl 2011-10-01 04:50 am (UTC)(link)
"Dream On" - Aerosmith (as performed by Glee)


Talking about their pasts rarely strays from the territory of ‘vague’. M had serious problems with the military; so had RC. RC had lost just about every friend he had; not so far from M’s story really, was it? Admittedly, M couldn’t come up with something to match ‘my former commanding officer sifted through my head with tentacles weekly’, but RC probably couldn’t match ‘everything I consume is in my head and the noise is deafening’.

Not that they’d ever actually said any of that to each other. But they’re smart. Just enough clues, in private… not so difficult to figure out.

RC still never mentions Frenzy. Or Bonecrusher. Or what he’d learned in Axiom. Well, the important parts that he learned. The most important parts with Frenzy and Bonecrusher. He doesn’t know what M’s never mentioned. Probably big, nasty things too.

Though RC… could mention some of it. A little more specifically, just for the laughs. “So, she wanted to what?” M asked, obviously perplexed. RC sniggered.
“She wanted to ‘open my heart chakra’ because my bad karma was hampering ‘Crystalhugger’s’ spiritual journey. And I ain’t even gotten started yet.” Or the fact that the apartment had smelled like patchouli and sandalwood for a week after that mess.

“… People are strange.”

RC couldn’t help but cackle at that. “Of course. But we’ve got better things t’do than sit here and compare stories. You owe me a race.” He stood and shook his plating for a moment before folding down, turning on his lights. “Let’s see if you’re really as fast as you claim.”

Better to leave the past vague and live now anyway, wasn’t it?
namesnotprowl: (Vogue)

Nemvoy and Barricade, 34. I feel like I should apologize about the song since not everyone likes...

[personal profile] namesnotprowl 2011-10-01 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
"Say I" - Creed


They both play their cards close to the chest, he’s noticed. That’s fine by him. It’s not worth it if they aren’t playing the same game, and it’s clear enough to him that they are.

It’s called ‘Secrets’. And it’s Barricade’s favorite.

They figure out little things, every once in a while. From pushing each other just a little too far; he’d found something dirty in Convoy’s past, and Convoy found the side of Barricade that was reserved for those on his table for his little ‘sessions’. From the one wandering into a warehouse and catching the other dancing – better than a warrior maybe ought to.

From the fact that he could tell Convoy had been hollowed out and dumped here like him. Abandoned by the ones that did that to him. No one really familiar around. Certainly no one that could understand what he was and what he’d gone through. But sometimes he caught sight of a fire buried in there and was pleased to see it.

His arms and chassis are splattered with Energon, most of it not his own. When it came down to brass tacks, he only ever gave a little. Convoy isn’t the mech he’d lost that he’d willingly submit to, after all. Even all his power wouldn’t get that from Barricade. The Decepticon’s posture is relaxed, gazed fixed out the window. Couple people, far away. They wouldn’t notice either of them, likely. Human eyesight isn’t the best at dusk, after all.

He feels a hand slide along one of his pauldrons, gripping the tire and tugging, and he exvents slowly. “You’re paranoid,” a voice, rough but still familiar – the voice of somebody he respected and wanted to see dead – rumbles out, tugging him again.

He allows it, shifting on his feet to turn. “And you,” he starts, running a claw unkindly across a section of plating he’d diligently pried at for an hour, “worry too fraggin’ much.”

From anyone else, he’d expect at least a hiss. But the slight widening of a pair of red optics – how strange still, for an Autobot to have red optics – was reward enough for him. “Says who?” Defiance.

Well. He can play that game too. “Say I.”
recompiling: (Warrior)

Anon and Clu, 13. The End of Anon's AU finally written because it's...

[personal profile] recompiling 2011-10-01 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
"The End of Days" - Bullet for My Valentine


Five hundred cycles and he’d finally been caught by Clu’s soldiers. It had taken them a good long while to take him down, even with his energy reserves running low. He’d fought like a wild animal with the skill of a System Monitor. If Clu thought he could control the little program and Rinzler, he would have quashed the rebellious cells in the population instantly.

But Anon might just be too dangerous to leave alive. Even if he could have rectified him, what guarantee was there that Flynn wouldn’t find some way to get ahold of him and reprogram him again? No, he had to be gotten rid of.

In garish fashion, as usual.

Anon stood quietly in his cell, waiting to be thrown back into the games – probably for the last time. He’s heard who finished the competitions every time, and even he wasn’t that good. He was ready for it. He wasn’t certain he’d been meant to survive this long anyway. He’d take what he could get.

Besides, he could give Rinzler a tough opponent in the end. That would be a good end, the silent Monitor figured.
supernova1006: (sun on me)

AHAHA HOLY SHIT

[personal profile] supernova1006 2011-10-01 12:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Baw tiny Michael with all the big robots. This is awesome!
supernova1006: (it's natural i swear)

[personal profile] supernova1006 2011-10-01 12:28 pm (UTC)(link)
AM on his own and AM with the axis of evil?
a_perfect_end: The players tried for a forward pass. (broclasp of destiny)

o-oh god. :D :D :D :D :D

[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2011-10-01 01:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Hold, Please

Anon and Clu, 6 - Michael Jackson - I Just Can't Stop Lovin' You

There's a persistent rumor among the station organics that Sacrosanct's elevators are psychic.

Clu knows better. There's no such thing--at least, outside of the slight extra-sense between Programs and their Users, and that takes years to develop. Elevators cannot make decisions on their own, and they do not predict the future.

So when he bolts onto the 316 in R-Zone 06, (it's running a half-second off schedule, as usual), he doesn't realize he's not alone until the doors hiss shut.

In all fairness, Anon is great at being selectively invisible--almost better at it than his predecessor. Definitely better at it than Clu.

"Hey," he says, and it comes out like an awkward cough, because things are still a little weird between them--have been since certain Events in chapter seven. It couldn't be helped! Dramas had dramatic conventions, and Gregory's assets just weren't to their best advantage in a dress...

Anon kind of stiffens, all over, and gives him a compulsory headtilt of acknowledgement.

Yeah. They'd pretty much. Both rather be anywhere else.

"So. Ah." Just making small talk, just to pass the time, and it has to be a trick of his processors; there's no way the elevator is actually slowing down. "How are--how are things?"

Anon can facepalm, vividly, while standing completely still.

"That good, huh?"

He's almost sure there was a shade of grudging amusement in Anon's ensuing shrug.

So. Things are going about as well as they can, and the seventeenth floor is moments away when the lights flicker and something grinds, just above their heads, and the elevator crawls to a stop.

Perversely, the sound system is fine.

"Oh, great." He lets out a sigh, leans on the wall; it'll take at least half an hour for the repair drones to arrive. "Hey, how much Toni Braxton d'you figure it can--"

Wait, wait, he knows this one. That's. Not. Toni. Braxton.

...Oh, Users, no.

On that day, Clu acquired proof-positive of two things:

Anon can and will perform eyerolls with his entire body--

And Sacrosanct's elevators, whether psychic or merely sadistic, they know not what they do.
curbstomping: alex mercer | ZEUS (thoughtful)

[personal profile] curbstomping 2011-10-01 05:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Awwwwwww ♥ NICKNAMES USE ♥!! |D

[identity profile] oneliners.livejournal.com 2011-10-01 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Characters:
-Black-One || ([livejournal.com profile] oneliners )
-Noble Two || ([livejournal.com profile] nobletwo )
-Isaac Clarke || ([livejournal.com profile] stompitdead )
-Eric Northman || ([livejournal.com profile] northborn )
Number of Tracks: 2634

[identity profile] stompitdead.livejournal.com 2011-10-01 08:55 pm (UTC)(link)
SKYFER AND ERIC-- 3214

also Vandal and Isaac-- 5682
supernova1006: (sad and dark)

78 EXTRA

[personal profile] supernova1006 2011-10-03 04:36 am (UTC)(link)
The Chain - Ingrid Michaelson

so glide away on soapy heels
and promise not to promise anymore


He was gone. Jin had told the truth, and he had disappeared, and that was that.

Jin hadn't gotten to say goodbye, or even that he was sorry. A year now. Skyfire wasn't coming back.

Jin kept himself busy, like he always did. There was always the rift to study. There was always an insane AI to destroy or to fail to destroy. There was always contrary, capricious Hypatia. There was the war that had finally broken out between the station and the planet. It was the same as always. Jin had lost a friend, and he had mourned, and he had moved on, and another part of him was dead forever.

It didn't mean Jin didn't think about him. He wondered where Skyfire had gone back to the City he talked about, or if he had gone back to Cybertron. Jin could only hope that Skyfire was safe and, maybe, happy.

If he ever came back, what would he say? Jin had told him everything, and Skyfire had walked off without a single word. Jin heard nothing until Shockwave came on the network a week later, asking where Skyfire was; and then someone had tried to trace the network ID, but the ID was gone. Jin never knew what Skyfire had thought of it. If Skyfire came back, would he still be a friend?

Jin held onto the hope, fool that he always was. It didn't matter. Skyfire wasn't coming back. He was gone. And that was that.
supernova1006: (hooray)

626

[personal profile] supernova1006 2011-10-03 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
Walkie Talkie Man - Steriogram

well you're walkin and a talkin
and a freakin and a yellin


Once they'd moved past the stage of soldier and general, superior and inferior and approached some semblance of equality, Jin started to wonder why in the hell Ladon put up with him.

"Well, just listen! Look, I know there's the whole burned thing and all that, but look, okay, I mean I burned the heck out of these cupcakes just right, I think, and I figured, burnt sugar should be okay right? So it's kind of like a frosting, a really kind of...not great frosting, but still. Anyway! I just want you to try a little bit okay? I'm trying to figure out how to burn them just right and I need your opinion!"

Jin was dragging Ladon along by the wrist as he talked, practically jogging, his scarf flapping behind him and occasionally smacking Ladon in the face.

"Don't want any of your damn cakes in a cup. You were talkin' before about pink frosting. Don't want any part of this froofy shit, yeah?" Ladon practically growled out the words, but Jin had taken to ignoring the annoyed tone. Ladon was easy to crack once you got through the harsh, mobster exterior and the swearing.

"If you don't like it, you don't have to eat anymore!" Jin chirped as they arrived at the apartment. Jin practically yanked him inside. "Just one? Just a bite? Pleeeeeease?"

Ladon rolled his eyes. He hated it when the other dragon started begging.

"...Fine. One damn bite."

"Yay!" Jin threw up his hands and bounced in place for a second, then dashed into the kitchen. Ladon sank into the nearest chair with a groan and swept his hat off, scratching at the top of his head where the hair tangled around his horns.

Jin bounced back in mere seconds later, carrying an absolute monstrosity of a cupcake with burnt sugar frosting on a little white plate. He grinned and held out the burnt horror to Ladon. Ladon looked it over dubiously.

"Sure you're not tryin' to poison me?"

The words had the expected effect: Jin blanched and stared at Ladon in horror.

"Gosh, no, sir, I'd never--!"

"Just--shut up and hand it here," Ladon said before Jin could fall back into the "sir" habit.

Jin held it out to Ladon again, noticeably more subdued. Ladon sighed, dutifully picked up the blackened cupcake and took a tentative bite. Jin watched intently as Ladon chewed.

"Tastes like charcoal," Ladon said once he'd let Jin stew for awhile. "Mushy charcoal. With a weird aftertaste."

"Is...that a good thing?" Jin asked. He looked like a puppy eager to please its master. Ladon thought briefly about telling Jin that it was terrible if only to see the look on his face. But he couldn't.

He smirked a little and said, "Yeah, Jin. 'S good."

Re: 626

[identity profile] rustigedraak.livejournal.com 2011-10-03 05:08 am (UTC)(link)
D'awwww
supernova1006: (sun on me)

414

[personal profile] supernova1006 2011-10-03 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
Outro With Bees - Neko Case

so it's better my sweet
that we hover like bees


He liked it best when leaving wasn't painful.

She was drunk again. He could smell it on her, and could see the half-empty bottle of Merlot on the counter she'd tried to hide. Still, he smiled to see her, standing in the doorway, leaning against the jam and staring at him with accusation and mulishness.

"I just wanted to say goodbye," he said when the silence between them had stretched on long enough. "My bus is leaving in like a half an hour, so."

"So, go," she said. "Go if you're going. What do I have to do with it?"

"I hate leaving without saying goodbye."

"Why do you even have to go?" she said abruptly. "You never told me anything. I mean, what is it, are you in some kind of trouble?" She lowered her voice. "Is it drugs?"

He had to laugh. "No. Just...I'm needed somewhere else. I have to move on."

"Mr. Goddamn Mysterious," she grumbled. "Mr. Melodramatic. Put on a cowboy hat and get a horse and a sunset why don't you."

He laughed again. She folded her arms and stared down at them sadly.

"You've been a really good friend, Jin. Why can't you just stay. I mean...I actually really..."

He drew her into a hug to save her from having to say it out loud. "I know. I wish I could stay. I just...can't. I'll visit, though. Whenever I'm in the area."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She sighed, butted her head against his shoulder and drew away. Finally, again, she was smiling.

"I'm holding you to that, Jin Tian," she said. "I'll hunt you down if you don't."

He grinned. "I always keep my promises. I'll see you again. For now, though...goodbye."

She was seventy-three when he saw her again, sitting on the porch of her southern home, the matriarch. Six children, thirteen grandchildren.

"You're late, Jin Tian," she said, thumping him over the head with her cane.

"I know," he said sheepishly. "I mean to come sooner, but things got...busy."

"You haven't aged a day. Me...I've gotten old."

"Not so old."

She stood up on creaky knees to pull him into an embrace. She sobbed once into his shoulder but didn't cry.

"You kept your promise," she said.

"I always keep my promises," he said with a tiredness that hadn't been there before. "Sometimes it just takes awhile."
supernova1006: (sad and dark)

45 this is way too emo for them :|

[personal profile] supernova1006 2011-10-03 05:25 am (UTC)(link)
Blind - Placebo

i know we're broken

Anon was dying. Why was Jin the only witness? He'd called and called, but no one had heard, no one was coming.

"J-Just--what can I do?" Jin said in a strangled voice, watching glitter fall away from the program. If it had been blood, Jin could have handled it, but not this.

"Nothing," Anon said with easy acceptance. His voice crackled with static, getting worse with every second. "Not your fault. You have done enough. Tell Flynn, not his fault either."

"But...but someone can fix you, someone..."

Anon reached up and wrapped a dissolving hand around Jin's arm.

"Thank you, Jin," he said, and then he was gone. Pieces. Pixels like tiny gems skittering away across the station floor.

Jin knelt in the dust and cried.
supernova1006: (sun on me)

[personal profile] supernova1006 2011-10-03 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
buuuuu
recompiling: (Sacrifice)

Re: 45 this is way too emo for them :|

[personal profile] recompiling 2011-10-03 12:43 pm (UTC)(link)
;~; B-bawwwww
supernova1006: (mrrf)

Re: 45 this is way too emo for them :|

[personal profile] supernova1006 2011-10-03 05:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Itunes hates me :x
nyctophobias: (alone in my paradise)

23

[personal profile] nyctophobias 2011-10-04 04:06 am (UTC)(link)
B.Y.O.B. - System of a Down

dancing in the desert
blowing up the sunshine


She'd gone to the White Desert many times before the girl with the braids had arrived.

Her first instinct when she'd noticed the encroaching lands in the dreamworld had been to explore them. But immediately upon crossing the threshold, she'd known that these worlds didn't belong to her. The White Desert felt old, older than Poniko's worlds, and they were foreign. She hadn't liked the desert, with its monochrome. She preferred colors. She preferred the pastels of the Shoal. Even the Snow Land was preferable.

Still, it wasn't as if all of the worlds were pleasant. They weren't meant to be; they were tests, even Poniko knew that. So she explored, and she found Monoe and Monoko.

They might have been sisters. Or maybe they were the same person. Either way, Poniko got a sense from them that she hadn't gotten from the the other beings. Not from the snow girl, or the beaked man, or the thing with the quivering jaw deep in the encroaching darkness. Not from the Toriningen, to be sure. Monoe and Monoko felt different. They never spoke to her, probably never could. Poniko didn't even know if they knew that she was there. Monoko stayed in her tunnel and screamed silently and transformed if you came too close, and she always had had Poniko waking up with a start. Her sister, if Monoe was her sister, had a subtler terror to her. Always smiling, that strange Mona Lisa smirk, and always disappearing when you tried to touch her.

Poniko couldn't say how she knew what to call them. They were Monoe and Monoko, the same way that she was Poniko. The same way that Masada was Masada. Only the girl with the braids hadn't yet yielded a name.

Once the girl came and started killing the beaked man and chasing the rare Takofuusen, things changed. The outskirts of the desert changed and red began to run through all the white. If you followed the right paths you'd find the niches the girl had carved, the severed heads and limbs and mutated monsters. If Monoe or Monoko noticed or cared, they gave no indication. They stayed where they had always stayed. Even the girl with the braids couldn't harm them.

The girl's corruption had spread. Poniko retreated to her castle and never saw the White Desert again.

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