Drabble tree!

[kahvi.livejournal.com]

I played with this over at fakenews_fanfic, and I thought it might be fun to try over here. Here's how it works - I post a drabble, and anyone who wants to participate replies to this post with another drabble containing one of the sentences or phrases from the original drabble. The subject line should be the words you took. The next person should continue the trend, stealing a sentence or phrase and beginning their own.

Any particular drabble can be drawn from as many times as you want. If you don't feel like posting 100 words exactly, that's OK. Near-drabbles of approximately 100 words are fine too. It's about having fun, not exact definitions. ;)

General disclaimer: The writers herein are just having fun, making no claims of ownership, and earning no money.




It was far too late, and they were far too drunk, which was why they had even ventured near this subject. "Yer not serious," Lister spluttered, beer spilling from the can he was waving. "You've never even had proper sex!"

Rimmer shrugged. "I have, once. Overrated, if you ask me."

"Then it wasn't proper sex," Lister concluded. "Proper sex should make ya see stars. Make the Earth move."

"Are you saying," Rimmer asked, dryly, "that I haven't met the right person yet?"

Lister looked into his eyes just a little too long. "Whatever, man," he mumbled.

Comments

[zekkass.livejournal.com]

[What am I doing here? I have been inspired by the Kink Meme. And your drabble is fantastic. Therefore, I attempt to write these two after a long time of not writing a thing.]

"Proper sex should make ya see stars. Make the Earth move." Rimmer said, murmuring to himself.

Lister lifted his head from Rimmer's arm. "What?"

Rimmer repeated himself, beginning to feel embarassed.

"Where'd you hear that?"

"You." Rimmer said, wishing he had never said the phrase in the first place. Lister would probably laugh at him for remembering something so...so silly! And then he'd tell him what he really thought of Rimmer, and that the sex had been a joke, and then...

Lister was talking. Rimmer focused his eyes.

"...mean, me?"

"Nevermind."

"Hey, now I want to know!" Lister pulled himself up, straddling Rimmer. Rimmer gulped at the position. It was too similar to what they had done...just done, actually.

"You...we were drunk and talking about sex." Rimmer said, barely above a whisper.

Lister grinned. "And I meant it, too."

(Lister was about as carefree as he could get. After years of wanting and hating...here he had his bundle of overwired nerves to himself.)

And he kissed Rimmer, just to show that he meant this, too.

Well. He was already dead.

[hazeltea.livejournal.com]

(I got a little carried away and went over 100 words. I hope that is ok. You can't stop a brooding Rimmer.)


Well. He was already dead. His life had passed quickly in his memory, or perhaps that was just that the number of memorable events spicing his existence were few and far between. There were entire years in which Rimmer could honestly say that he couldn’t recall a single thing that set it apart from its fellow years, months, weeks, days in a row, all neatly and precisely crossed off the calendar one by one by one in red pen. An entire smegging lifetime, and he hadn’t managed to achieve one thing that would make anyone back on Io remember him fondly when he was gone, and be maybe just a little bit sorry that he was dead, maybe just a little bit regretful that they had not smiled at him while he was alive. Now that he was dead, there was no one left to care, anyway. Typical.

His fingers rested just above the railing of the observation deck, giving the illusion of a physical presence. It had become second nature by now. He sighed with breath he did not have as he gazed at the endless field of stars that he could not begin to navigate accurately and cursed softly to himself, wondering just how long a hologram’s artificial life was, and if his would end once Lister’s did, seeing as Holly had only justified his existence as an aid to his. He’d lose that argument when the time came, for as in life, Arnold Rimmer had no worth in death, either.

From below, he could hear the Cat making a nuisance of himself, and he grimaced. Rimmer made his way down the ladder and towards the noise, preferring to face the others in the corridor than to have his sanctuary disturbed.

How many years had it been since the day he was born? Despite his meticulous calendar, Rimmer simply couldn’t keep the years straight. He would agree with whatever number Lister came up with, he supposed; it might even be close. He had remembered the month and the date, after all.

[hazeltea.livejournal.com]

This is another fantastic idea, and I love your drabbles. You get just the right amount of feeling in them!

Overrated, if you ask me

[smaych.livejournal.com]

“Overrated, if you ask me.”

“Rimmer how can LOVE be overrated? It's just not possible.”

“The way you harp on about it makes it seem like the best thing since sliced bread. I can tell you, however, that it was awful.”

Lister paused. “So you loved her then?”

Rimmer exhaled sharply. “Oh I don't know Lister. Look, just smeg off and leave me alone.”

“What was so awful about it?”

The doubts, the insecurity, the lack of control, the burden of responsibility for something so fragile...

“Nothing. Everything.”

The fact that, for a moment, I thought I could understand you.