Tale Of One Night; Ethan
Jul. 4th, 2007 12:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparklebutchTitle: Tale Of One Night
Fandom: BtVS
Character: Ethan
Summary: Night; also young and stupid
Prompts: Cali
Tonight is inspired; everything goes right, goes bright, goes Ethan's way. He's a young witch about town, drunk on newly-learned magicks and newly-acquired booze, and nothing can stand in his way. Bar-hopping, leaving little tricks and nasty surprises wherever he goes, spreading mischief like a rainbow-coloured ribbon that trails behind him; he can almost see it on a dark map in his mind, see which winding streets will have their share of chaos tomorrow morning when they wake to another dull day.
"You'll catch someone's attention, lad," an old man drawls at him from one doorway, accent thick and a chequered woolly hat covering half his face, but not so much that Ethan can't see, feel, that it's a demon.
"Maybe I like attention," he says, confident as only the young, the intoxicated and the truly innocent can be. And Ethan's no innocent.
"You won't like this kind," the demon grumbles, spits at his feet and turns to leave. Ethan takes one step after him, but the demon is already gone, in the darkness and the mist and the back alley.
That does put a damper on the mood, if only temporarily. Ethan wanders down the empty street, thoughtful, on his way to the next pub. But the thoughts disappear after the next drink someone has the misfortune of buying him. They're almost entirely gone by the end of the night, and Ethan finds that his sharp coherence, of which he's proud, has dulled. He feels like his head is full of cotton, old chequered cotton of old socks and vests, green and brown and dark blue, strips of it torn and scrunched together and stuffed into his skull.
He wakes screaming and feels as if every inch of his body is stretched beyond its capacity. Magic courses through him, but it isn't his; something venomous and slithering, vines holding him down, strange bulging eyes staring at him from the darkness in the dim room and he doesn't know how he got here, or where here is. He only knows he's arching, arching and tensing and then falling limp. There's a bark near his ear, like someone hacking and coughing their lungs out, and there's laugher somewhere nearby and burning heat down his chest.
He wakes panting hours later and there are three red lines, like claw marks on his naked chest. His clothes are nowhere to be found. Magic is dangerous, everyone told him, it can be dangerous and he should beware. Ethan is exhausted, parched. So what have we learned tonight?
Tonight was glorious, Ethan thinks, covers himself with a dish towel and walks proudly outside in broad daylight to frighten the neighbours. Tonight was sublime. Must do it again some time. Maybe bring someone along, see what happens.
Fandom: BtVS
Character: Ethan
Summary: Night; also young and stupid
Prompts: Cali
Tonight is inspired; everything goes right, goes bright, goes Ethan's way. He's a young witch about town, drunk on newly-learned magicks and newly-acquired booze, and nothing can stand in his way. Bar-hopping, leaving little tricks and nasty surprises wherever he goes, spreading mischief like a rainbow-coloured ribbon that trails behind him; he can almost see it on a dark map in his mind, see which winding streets will have their share of chaos tomorrow morning when they wake to another dull day.
"You'll catch someone's attention, lad," an old man drawls at him from one doorway, accent thick and a chequered woolly hat covering half his face, but not so much that Ethan can't see, feel, that it's a demon.
"Maybe I like attention," he says, confident as only the young, the intoxicated and the truly innocent can be. And Ethan's no innocent.
"You won't like this kind," the demon grumbles, spits at his feet and turns to leave. Ethan takes one step after him, but the demon is already gone, in the darkness and the mist and the back alley.
That does put a damper on the mood, if only temporarily. Ethan wanders down the empty street, thoughtful, on his way to the next pub. But the thoughts disappear after the next drink someone has the misfortune of buying him. They're almost entirely gone by the end of the night, and Ethan finds that his sharp coherence, of which he's proud, has dulled. He feels like his head is full of cotton, old chequered cotton of old socks and vests, green and brown and dark blue, strips of it torn and scrunched together and stuffed into his skull.
He wakes screaming and feels as if every inch of his body is stretched beyond its capacity. Magic courses through him, but it isn't his; something venomous and slithering, vines holding him down, strange bulging eyes staring at him from the darkness in the dim room and he doesn't know how he got here, or where here is. He only knows he's arching, arching and tensing and then falling limp. There's a bark near his ear, like someone hacking and coughing their lungs out, and there's laugher somewhere nearby and burning heat down his chest.
He wakes panting hours later and there are three red lines, like claw marks on his naked chest. His clothes are nowhere to be found. Magic is dangerous, everyone told him, it can be dangerous and he should beware. Ethan is exhausted, parched. So what have we learned tonight?
Tonight was glorious, Ethan thinks, covers himself with a dish towel and walks proudly outside in broad daylight to frighten the neighbours. Tonight was sublime. Must do it again some time. Maybe bring someone along, see what happens.
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no subject
Date: 2007-09-23 11:23 pm (UTC)Case
no subject
Date: 2007-09-24 02:25 pm (UTC)My fandom has magic :)
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Date: 2007-09-29 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-03 01:22 pm (UTC)