[the princess of the paupers.] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lookslikelove) wrote2010-06-08 05:57 pm
lookslikelove) wrote2010-06-08 05:57 pm
[meme| the cross-a-drabble meme]
rules. (lovingly lifted from
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
ineffort)1. write a drabble.
2. make it a crossover.
3. post it in a comment here with the following subject line: title, fandom/fandom, pairing or characters, rating.
4. beware of spoilers! they may be lurking here.
5. leave feedback for one and all! tis good for your karma (and gives you endorphins).
6. have fun, my darlings.
7. SPREAD IT LIKE AN STD (or pimp it like a whore or something), SI VOUS PLAIT? ♥
the lamplight where you lie, true blood/being human, jessica/mitchell, pg
Everything dies.
So is the human way.
Mitchell isn't human, but when time takes the people he loves, when time takes George, Annie too eventually, he wishes he could be. That he could have an end to go with his start and see them on the other side to bookend it all.
But Mitchell lives. For lack of a better word, he lives and he moves on.
In the distance, Texas waits.
In the distance, a girl whose going to stay a girl forever rises with the moon and goes down with the sun.
-
The first meeting -
it's a bar, and she is saying something that the short blonde beside her finds worthy of laughter.
They laugh, her and this other woman, giggle really, and from where he stands, he can hear the blonde's pulse, the thud of that beat under her skin, the blood pulsating wet and warm beneath.
When he moves his gaze, red red hair and a smile that splits too easily (splits like Annie's smiles used to, did), there is no similar sound. No beat of tell tale life. No blood, pushing hard and fast inside veins and arteries alike.
There is silence. The hollow nature that comes with that and little more.
Jessica smiles. Mitchell watches her lips curl around her teeth, imagines the fangs for himself.
Later, they will spring into view.
Later, he'll feel them against his mouth and she will feel his against hers in turn, a sigh breaking between them.
But for now, there is a booth.
She hands him a bottle, the label eliciting a chuckle in the process and her fingers itch promptly on the sound. She holds them still under the table.
"True Blood, huh?"
Her expression slants for coy, "That's what it says."
He grimaces with the first sip. A little less with the second.
Her lips spin on amusement for both.
-
They trade stories by a fireplace that goes unlit.
Her voice goes low with the name Hoyt, and he almost asks. For details, what happened and why, but that would open the door for her to do the same and as much as he likes her, likes the way she reminds him of people who aren't with him now, they're not quite there yet.
The thing about Jessica though is that she's not too concerned with keeping score. Never was.
She tells him everything. She tells him things about herself like she's talking about someone else. With animation and detachment and an eerie sense of calm that is only compromised when her head bows her face from his steady gaze, a shaky breath expelled.
"Sometimes," she says, "I forget. I wish it happened more often."
Her hand turns tight in his wrist. He almost fastens his fingers a little closer at that.
Sometimes, she said, and he didn't have to ask what she meant.
They were once human. It's not suprising that those memories still spill down from where they sit stored in their minds and they lose themselves.
They forget. Moments, here and there. What they are now, what they were then, and how one can't ever go back, but only forward.
He always remembers when he tries to snake a breath in he doesn't really need.
With her, it's the catch of her wrist against another, the warmth there. How it doesn't translate to her own flesh and never will again.
Silent, he pushes back her hair from her face. Lets her forehead hold easy in the space below his chin.
There, she breathes. Closes her eyes in the dark, and waits.
Together, they forget.
-
Re: the lamplight where you lie, true blood/being human, jessica/mitchell, pg
MAY. I WAS JUST WRITING A TRUE BLOOD/BEING HUMAN CROSSOVER. OUR MINDS WHAT IS THIS.
But YES. It's so pretty and I don't know. It is kind of sad and kind of sadly perfect. JUST GAH.
Re: the lamplight where you lie, true blood/being human, jessica/mitchell, pg
Muchas gracias. It def did not go where I was trying to make it go, but I am happy it worked for you ♥.
Re: the lamplight where you lie, true blood/being human, jessica/mitchell, pg
Re: the lamplight where you lie, true blood/being human, jessica/mitchell, pg
Re: the lamplight where you lie, true blood/being human, jessica/mitchell, pg
Favorite bit:
red red hair and a smile that splits too easily (splits like Annie's smiles used to, did)
YES.
Re: the lamplight where you lie, true blood/being human, jessica/mitchell, pg
Re: the lamplight where you lie, true blood/being human, jessica/mitchell, pg
This is wonderful, girl.
Comparing her to Annie and I haven't even gotten that far in BH.
IDK IDK but this is wonderful, as are you my dear.