look to the pasta (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
annakovsky) wrote2005-06-29 11:40 am
annakovsky) wrote2005-06-29 11:40 am
Super Mario Sisters Featuring Yoshi
On Sunday ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lalejandra texted me and told me to tell her a story. So this is for her. It vaguely takes place in this universe, though don't ask me what the chronology is. (And if you haven't read those stories, basically it's post-apocalyptic Los Angeles - Hannah Wood, aka Elijah Wood's little sister, is there, and skater!Hermione, and all the Buffy people who haven't died and some of the ones who have.)
Hannah and Dawn and Hermione and the Big Adventure
**
The sun's been gone for forty-one days. Hannah's been counting. She thinks she has that, what's it called, Seasonal whatever, where you get depressed from not enough sunlight. Like in the winter.
"Everybody's dead and you think Seasonal Affective Disorder is why you're depressed?" Dawn says. She doesn't even look up from the text she's translating. "Besides, it's been forty-two days."
"No, it hasn't," Hannah says.
"Yeah," Dawn says, "it has. You were unconscious for one."
"Oh," says Hannah. "Yeah. I forgot."
Dawn crosses out a whole line of her translation and rubs her forehead. Then she sighs and starts writing again. "We're all depressed," she says.
"I know," Hannah says. "Shut up."
**
Hannah quits on day forty-three, but she doesn't tell anyone. She wants to see how long until they notice. So instead of cooking and ghost watching and going to the meetings about, whatever, the recent werewolf problem, she stays in her room and listens to her Walkman and does the quizzes in the back issues of Seventeen that she'd found lying around. She assumes they belong to one of the Potentials - that's why she doesn't feel bad about stealing them.
They probably shouldn't call them Potentials anymore, since they're actually Slayers, but no one seems to be able to break the habit. None of them seem like full people, anyway - just like they have the potential to be people, if things were different. So Hannah guesses it fits.
Hermione comes to find her on day forty-four, when Hannah is carefully painting her toenails black.
"Hannah, where have you been?" Hermione asks in her bossiest voice. "We've looked... is that nail polish?"
"Yeah," Hannah says, painting the fourth toe on her left foot. The little piggy that had none. "You want some?"
Hermione pauses for a second. Her nails are all bitten up. "Well...," she says, then blinks. "No! We've very important things to do. You have to come right now."
"I'd love to, but I can't," Hannah says, wiping a smudge of nail polish off her skin.
Hermione gives a long-suffering sigh. "Why not?"
"I quit," Hannah says. "Yesterday. Sorry."
Hermione rolls her eyes. "You can't quit."
"Yeah, you're going to have to take that up with the management," Hannah says, and starts on her right foot.
"This is a war," Hermione says. "You can't quit a war."
"I decided I'm a conscientious objector," Hannah says. "I'm an Anabaptist."
Hermione stares at her. "No, you're not."
"I converted," Hannah says.
Hermione laughs before she can stop herself, then snaps her mouth closed and glares. Hannah's never heard her laugh before. She smiles.
"You should quit too," Hannah says. "We Anabaptists are going to make cookie dough and eat it raw later."
"I can't," Hermione says. "I have to cast a spell to contain the werewolves before they eat any more Potentials."
Hannah shrugs. "Suit yourself."
Hermione turns and walks out. She's stopped wearing her robes - she's just in those wide-legged skater jeans and a Green Day shirt. Billy Joe stares at Hannah from Hermione's back. Hannah met him once with Elijah - he was kind of an asshole. She had made fun of him and Lij had laughed, and after she remembers that she has to read two whole issues of Seventeen to make herself forget and feel like an Anabaptist again.
Dawn comes to find her on day forty-five. Hannah's moved on from Seventeen to issues of Life magazine from the 50s that she'd found in the Hyperion's basement. They're a little damp, but mostly okay.
"Hey," Dawn says from the doorway.
"Hey," Hannah says. She turns a page.
"I heard you quit."
"Yup," Hannah says.
Dawn just stands there in the doorway.
"There's, like, five issues of Seventeen on the desk if you're bored," Hannah says. She doesn't look up at a Dawn, so she doesn't know if Dawn's decided to read one until Dawn flops down on the bed next to her.
After flipping pages for awhile, Dawn says, "How's quitting going, anyway?"
Hannah shrugs. "It's better than the alternative."
"I guess," Dawn says.
"It'd be better if I wasn't stuck in the hotel."
Dawn rolls over onto her stomach. "Everything'd be better if we could go out. I mean, without fifty Potentials for protection."
Hannah nudges Dawn's shoulder with hers. "Do you think the sun's gone everywhere, or just here in L.A.?"
"I dunno," Dawn says.
"Because maybe someplace else, they can still see the sun. Maybe it's warm."
"Maybe," Dawn says. She turns the page of the magazine. "Do you want to take this quiz?"
"Okay," Hannah says. She picks at her nail polish. It's coming off - too cheap.
"It's, 'Are your parents too strict?' Question one: are you allowed to go out on weeknights? A, never. B, always. C, On special occasions."
"D," Hannah says. "With an armed guard."
**
Hermione comes back on day forty-six. Hannah and Dawn are asleep under the covers, curled back to back, knees bent, soles of their feet touching.
"Wake up," Hermione says loudly.
Hannah groans. Dawn lifts her head and says, "Why?" blearily.
Hermione's eyes narrow. "Dawn? What are you doing here?"
Dawn drops her head back to the pillow. "Sleeping. Go 'way."
"Dawn!" Hermione says. "We have texts you need to translate. Hannah! We need you to take out the Potentials so they don't get themselves killed again."
"You seem tense, Hermione," Hannah mumbles. "Maybe you should take some time off."
"Yeah," Dawn says. "Read Seventeen or something." She pulls the pillow over her head.
When Hannah wakes up again, Hermione's sitting in the corner of the room, Seventeen bunched up in her hands. She's crying. Dawn's sitting beside her and patting her shoulder.
Dawn looks at Hannah. "The stress is getting to her," she says. "That redheaded Potential got killed this morning."
"Oh," Hannah says. She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and sits there in her boxer shorts, watching Hermione cry.
"You liked that Potential a lot?" Hannah finally asks.
"No, not at all," Hermione says, and bursts into a fresh bout of tears.
**
Hannah keeps having dreams that somewhere else, the sun is shining.
**
"We need an exit plan," Hannah says one morning at breakfast. Day fifty-one. She and Hermione and Dawn are sitting together. They always sit together now. Willow is currently giving them worried looks.
"What do you mean?" Dawn asks. She digs her spoon into her cereal half-heartedly.
"I mean, I'm sick of this," Hannah says.
"We know," Hermione says with her mouth full. "You quit."
Hannah shakes her head. "No, I mean...." She lowers her voice. "I think the sun's shining. Out there. Somewhere."
"The sun'll come out," Dawn sings, extremely unenthusiastically. "Tomorrow."
"Bet your bottom dollar," Hermione joins in, and Hannah hadn't known it was possible to sing sarcastically.
"That tomorrow," Dawn and Hermione sing, giving each other toothy, wiseass smiles, "there'll be sun."
One of the Potentials down the table picks it up, but she's not being sarcastic. "Just thinking about tomorrow," she sings, like she means it, and another Potential joins in, then another. "Clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow," they sing. Soon the whole room - including Willow, including Kennedy - is singing, completely unironically, about the sun coming out, like it hasn't been fifty-one days, like they can go outside without getting attacked by vampires, like they aren't all going to die, one by one.
"When I'm stuck with a day that's gray and lonely," they all sing. Hannah and Hermione and Dawn stare at each other in horror. "I just stick out my chin, and grin, and say!"
Hannah leans in. "Seriously, guys, we have to get the fuck out of here."
**
The way they do it is, they steal a car and Hermione enchants it to fly. Hannah is in charge of the stealing. She picks a blue car, figures it'll be harder to see against the sky.
"Yeah, if the sun ever comes out again," Dawn says.
"It will," Hannah says. She's sure - she doesn't know how, but she knows it.
They tell Giles they're going to do reconnaissance, find a place where things aren't like this. He takes off his glasses and polishes them.
"What makes you think there is such a place?"
"Hannah," Hermione says with complete confidence. "She's been having dreams." Hermione thinks Hannah is a Seer. Hannah thinks Hermione is overly optimistic.
Giles puts his glasses back on and regards Hannah steadily.
"So can we go?" Dawn asks.
Giles sighs, and looks tired. "Yes, I suppose so."
Dawn sits back. "Wow, okay. I thought that'd be harder."
Giles is looking at Hannah again. "Yes, well," he says. "I don't imagine I could stop you."
Hannah shakes her head and, as she does, realizes he really couldn't.
**
They fly away in the car. Hermione drives. Dawn provides the snacks. Hannah sleeps in the backseat. She dreams about getting sunburned on the beach, the smell of the ocean and sunscreen, sand under her toes.
When she wakes up to the dark and the cold, before she even opens her eyes, she says, "Bear left," and feels Hermione turn the car.
**
The next time Hannah wakes up, Dawn is asleep with her head on Hermione's shoulder, her face quiet and pretty and still. She looks very young. Hermione is driving intently, focused on the clouds ahead of them, and Hannah suddenly loves them both so intensely it feels like her whole chest has seized up.
When Hermione hears Hannah moving, she looks back and smiles at her. The sky is black ahead of them, clouds thick and gray, and the air feels like it's going to storm, thick and humid. It smells like rain.
"Hey," Hannah says, and rubs at her eyes. "How's it going?"
"Okay, I think," Hermione says. "Everything's quiet."
"Yeah," Hannah says.
"Are we still heading the right direction?" Hermione asks.
Hannah thinks for a minute. It's like she's reaching out, poking, finding the sun in her mind. She feels dumb, like a Jedi or something, reaching out with her feelings, blah blah blah, but there it is, the sun, she found it.
"A little bit to your right," she says. Hermione turns the steering wheel. "Yeah, there," Hannah says. "That's right. We're almost there."
"I believe you," Hermione says. And the thing is, she does, and that's so ridiculous Hannah can't even.
They keep flying.
**
END
lalejandra texted me and told me to tell her a story. So this is for her. It vaguely takes place in this universe, though don't ask me what the chronology is. (And if you haven't read those stories, basically it's post-apocalyptic Los Angeles - Hannah Wood, aka Elijah Wood's little sister, is there, and skater!Hermione, and all the Buffy people who haven't died and some of the ones who have.)Hannah and Dawn and Hermione and the Big Adventure
**
The sun's been gone for forty-one days. Hannah's been counting. She thinks she has that, what's it called, Seasonal whatever, where you get depressed from not enough sunlight. Like in the winter.
"Everybody's dead and you think Seasonal Affective Disorder is why you're depressed?" Dawn says. She doesn't even look up from the text she's translating. "Besides, it's been forty-two days."
"No, it hasn't," Hannah says.
"Yeah," Dawn says, "it has. You were unconscious for one."
"Oh," says Hannah. "Yeah. I forgot."
Dawn crosses out a whole line of her translation and rubs her forehead. Then she sighs and starts writing again. "We're all depressed," she says.
"I know," Hannah says. "Shut up."
**
Hannah quits on day forty-three, but she doesn't tell anyone. She wants to see how long until they notice. So instead of cooking and ghost watching and going to the meetings about, whatever, the recent werewolf problem, she stays in her room and listens to her Walkman and does the quizzes in the back issues of Seventeen that she'd found lying around. She assumes they belong to one of the Potentials - that's why she doesn't feel bad about stealing them.
They probably shouldn't call them Potentials anymore, since they're actually Slayers, but no one seems to be able to break the habit. None of them seem like full people, anyway - just like they have the potential to be people, if things were different. So Hannah guesses it fits.
Hermione comes to find her on day forty-four, when Hannah is carefully painting her toenails black.
"Hannah, where have you been?" Hermione asks in her bossiest voice. "We've looked... is that nail polish?"
"Yeah," Hannah says, painting the fourth toe on her left foot. The little piggy that had none. "You want some?"
Hermione pauses for a second. Her nails are all bitten up. "Well...," she says, then blinks. "No! We've very important things to do. You have to come right now."
"I'd love to, but I can't," Hannah says, wiping a smudge of nail polish off her skin.
Hermione gives a long-suffering sigh. "Why not?"
"I quit," Hannah says. "Yesterday. Sorry."
Hermione rolls her eyes. "You can't quit."
"Yeah, you're going to have to take that up with the management," Hannah says, and starts on her right foot.
"This is a war," Hermione says. "You can't quit a war."
"I decided I'm a conscientious objector," Hannah says. "I'm an Anabaptist."
Hermione stares at her. "No, you're not."
"I converted," Hannah says.
Hermione laughs before she can stop herself, then snaps her mouth closed and glares. Hannah's never heard her laugh before. She smiles.
"You should quit too," Hannah says. "We Anabaptists are going to make cookie dough and eat it raw later."
"I can't," Hermione says. "I have to cast a spell to contain the werewolves before they eat any more Potentials."
Hannah shrugs. "Suit yourself."
Hermione turns and walks out. She's stopped wearing her robes - she's just in those wide-legged skater jeans and a Green Day shirt. Billy Joe stares at Hannah from Hermione's back. Hannah met him once with Elijah - he was kind of an asshole. She had made fun of him and Lij had laughed, and after she remembers that she has to read two whole issues of Seventeen to make herself forget and feel like an Anabaptist again.
Dawn comes to find her on day forty-five. Hannah's moved on from Seventeen to issues of Life magazine from the 50s that she'd found in the Hyperion's basement. They're a little damp, but mostly okay.
"Hey," Dawn says from the doorway.
"Hey," Hannah says. She turns a page.
"I heard you quit."
"Yup," Hannah says.
Dawn just stands there in the doorway.
"There's, like, five issues of Seventeen on the desk if you're bored," Hannah says. She doesn't look up at a Dawn, so she doesn't know if Dawn's decided to read one until Dawn flops down on the bed next to her.
After flipping pages for awhile, Dawn says, "How's quitting going, anyway?"
Hannah shrugs. "It's better than the alternative."
"I guess," Dawn says.
"It'd be better if I wasn't stuck in the hotel."
Dawn rolls over onto her stomach. "Everything'd be better if we could go out. I mean, without fifty Potentials for protection."
Hannah nudges Dawn's shoulder with hers. "Do you think the sun's gone everywhere, or just here in L.A.?"
"I dunno," Dawn says.
"Because maybe someplace else, they can still see the sun. Maybe it's warm."
"Maybe," Dawn says. She turns the page of the magazine. "Do you want to take this quiz?"
"Okay," Hannah says. She picks at her nail polish. It's coming off - too cheap.
"It's, 'Are your parents too strict?' Question one: are you allowed to go out on weeknights? A, never. B, always. C, On special occasions."
"D," Hannah says. "With an armed guard."
**
Hermione comes back on day forty-six. Hannah and Dawn are asleep under the covers, curled back to back, knees bent, soles of their feet touching.
"Wake up," Hermione says loudly.
Hannah groans. Dawn lifts her head and says, "Why?" blearily.
Hermione's eyes narrow. "Dawn? What are you doing here?"
Dawn drops her head back to the pillow. "Sleeping. Go 'way."
"Dawn!" Hermione says. "We have texts you need to translate. Hannah! We need you to take out the Potentials so they don't get themselves killed again."
"You seem tense, Hermione," Hannah mumbles. "Maybe you should take some time off."
"Yeah," Dawn says. "Read Seventeen or something." She pulls the pillow over her head.
When Hannah wakes up again, Hermione's sitting in the corner of the room, Seventeen bunched up in her hands. She's crying. Dawn's sitting beside her and patting her shoulder.
Dawn looks at Hannah. "The stress is getting to her," she says. "That redheaded Potential got killed this morning."
"Oh," Hannah says. She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and sits there in her boxer shorts, watching Hermione cry.
"You liked that Potential a lot?" Hannah finally asks.
"No, not at all," Hermione says, and bursts into a fresh bout of tears.
**
Hannah keeps having dreams that somewhere else, the sun is shining.
**
"We need an exit plan," Hannah says one morning at breakfast. Day fifty-one. She and Hermione and Dawn are sitting together. They always sit together now. Willow is currently giving them worried looks.
"What do you mean?" Dawn asks. She digs her spoon into her cereal half-heartedly.
"I mean, I'm sick of this," Hannah says.
"We know," Hermione says with her mouth full. "You quit."
Hannah shakes her head. "No, I mean...." She lowers her voice. "I think the sun's shining. Out there. Somewhere."
"The sun'll come out," Dawn sings, extremely unenthusiastically. "Tomorrow."
"Bet your bottom dollar," Hermione joins in, and Hannah hadn't known it was possible to sing sarcastically.
"That tomorrow," Dawn and Hermione sing, giving each other toothy, wiseass smiles, "there'll be sun."
One of the Potentials down the table picks it up, but she's not being sarcastic. "Just thinking about tomorrow," she sings, like she means it, and another Potential joins in, then another. "Clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow," they sing. Soon the whole room - including Willow, including Kennedy - is singing, completely unironically, about the sun coming out, like it hasn't been fifty-one days, like they can go outside without getting attacked by vampires, like they aren't all going to die, one by one.
"When I'm stuck with a day that's gray and lonely," they all sing. Hannah and Hermione and Dawn stare at each other in horror. "I just stick out my chin, and grin, and say!"
Hannah leans in. "Seriously, guys, we have to get the fuck out of here."
**
The way they do it is, they steal a car and Hermione enchants it to fly. Hannah is in charge of the stealing. She picks a blue car, figures it'll be harder to see against the sky.
"Yeah, if the sun ever comes out again," Dawn says.
"It will," Hannah says. She's sure - she doesn't know how, but she knows it.
They tell Giles they're going to do reconnaissance, find a place where things aren't like this. He takes off his glasses and polishes them.
"What makes you think there is such a place?"
"Hannah," Hermione says with complete confidence. "She's been having dreams." Hermione thinks Hannah is a Seer. Hannah thinks Hermione is overly optimistic.
Giles puts his glasses back on and regards Hannah steadily.
"So can we go?" Dawn asks.
Giles sighs, and looks tired. "Yes, I suppose so."
Dawn sits back. "Wow, okay. I thought that'd be harder."
Giles is looking at Hannah again. "Yes, well," he says. "I don't imagine I could stop you."
Hannah shakes her head and, as she does, realizes he really couldn't.
**
They fly away in the car. Hermione drives. Dawn provides the snacks. Hannah sleeps in the backseat. She dreams about getting sunburned on the beach, the smell of the ocean and sunscreen, sand under her toes.
When she wakes up to the dark and the cold, before she even opens her eyes, she says, "Bear left," and feels Hermione turn the car.
**
The next time Hannah wakes up, Dawn is asleep with her head on Hermione's shoulder, her face quiet and pretty and still. She looks very young. Hermione is driving intently, focused on the clouds ahead of them, and Hannah suddenly loves them both so intensely it feels like her whole chest has seized up.
When Hermione hears Hannah moving, she looks back and smiles at her. The sky is black ahead of them, clouds thick and gray, and the air feels like it's going to storm, thick and humid. It smells like rain.
"Hey," Hannah says, and rubs at her eyes. "How's it going?"
"Okay, I think," Hermione says. "Everything's quiet."
"Yeah," Hannah says.
"Are we still heading the right direction?" Hermione asks.
Hannah thinks for a minute. It's like she's reaching out, poking, finding the sun in her mind. She feels dumb, like a Jedi or something, reaching out with her feelings, blah blah blah, but there it is, the sun, she found it.
"A little bit to your right," she says. Hermione turns the steering wheel. "Yeah, there," Hannah says. "That's right. We're almost there."
"I believe you," Hermione says. And the thing is, she does, and that's so ridiculous Hannah can't even.
They keep flying.
**
END
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...why do you do this to me?
WHY?
Just when I think your fics are too dark, you come out with something like this, and it's all hope but maybe false and AH!
Love.
I love the way you write these girls...they fit together, somehow.
If you ever feel inspired to write me some Dawn & Ginny or some Dawn/Ginny, I wouldn't complain. Or Ginny & Hannah or Ginny/Hannah. Shadowed sisters of famous siblings.
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I love these girls so much.
Ooh, Dawn and Ginny. Ginny and Hannah! GOOD IDEAS.
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I love their interactions and I love the SINGING OMG, and I love that this is me and you and Martha, and I love GILES and how helpless he is, and I love that they take the quizzes in 17, and LOVE. LOVE.
Bear left
I was like, "BEAR WOULD NEVER LEAVE US!" hahahaha.
Thank you for writing me a story, Kovsky. *squish*
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kassie just wrote a REAL hp story, and i was reading it, and i was like, "i wonder if i even COULD do this anymore -- write hp without -- why am i even THINKING ABOUT THIS? SHEESH."
HAHA.
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i'm just sayin.
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I'm going to pretend it was intentional because it took me a couple seconds to figure out which word was meant to be the verb. (Also, everything is about meeeee.)
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Also, what's great is that you wrote the same thing twice, EXACTLY THE SAME BOTH TIMES, about something making you interested in Draco, or something, and it was so weird and also neat, because i know that you wrote each sentence like three days apart!
Also? You made me want to write Kelly, Avril, Hannah, and Paris Hilton, just to prove to you that it could be done in a way that makes them all sound different.
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You made me want to write Kelly, Avril, Hannah, and Paris Hilton, just to prove to you that it could be done in a way that makes them all sound different.
HAHA. DO EEET. (The thing that totally cracked me up, though, is that you posted the Hannah/Kelly/Avril story, like, three days after I wrote that sentence. I was all, "OMG I HAVE PSYCHIC POWERS!!!" Heee.)
Are your crampy cramps of doooom better now?
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And they didn't all sound the same!!!
what's funny is that people DO sound the same in real life. If you listened to me and Martha and Kovsky talk to each other last weekend, you'd've been like, WHA? hee. But we're all slightly different, which makes it fun!
the crampy cramps of doom are still around, but i almost don't care because i have codeine. it's not totally good, though, so i'm CRANKY.
also i am sitting naked in front of the air conditioner. mmmmcold!
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But we're all slightly different, which makes it fun!
Heh. Also, you're all YOU, which makes it even more fun.
I love sitting naked in front of a fan in the summer. Mmmmnaked. Um, except cooking naked can lead to spatters in painful places. Unfortunately, I had to learn that one the hard way.
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(Also, hi kovsky!)
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YOU DROVE ME OUT. IN WRITING.
*wins at punniness*
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Just like
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Loved the singing, and Hannah's reaction. Then the end . . . oy vey. A little note of fatalism, a little note of hope. Beautiful.
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*loves*
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*adores*
Re: *adores*
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A real, solid friendship between women is so, so rare to find portrayed in any form of fiction. Well, I lie, I find it in chick-lit, but not in 'serious' works. This was sensational.
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