Monday DE: Dance For Me

[splash_of_blue]

Happy December, Milliways!

I have decided that today, as I run around like a headless chicken picking up the mess left from taking two days out to single-handedly run a work conference (yeeeeeeeeeah), I require to sit and read fics from you all - so dance, my puppets, dance!

Post in with your characters. Other people respond with a character and a song lyric. Respond as you see fit!

And have fun. :)

Comments

[skyhigh_seance]

Bring it!

[thebattycakes]

Via random shuffle:

"After every sunny day / Came a stormy night"

[skyhigh_seance]

Today... today was good, Number Four decides, playing hopscotch with himself out in the abandoned courtyard. Today there was an interview on the television, lots of easy questions since no one dared ask anything probing with dear old dad sitting there glaring. Allison totally flubbed the one about which Backstreet Boy was cutest, but he'd piped up and corrected her. He wasn't sure why the interviewer lady had been so quiet for so long afterwards, he was totally right.

"Number FOUR." The shout startles him clean off his feet, even as it sends ice down his spine. Dad is mad about something. "Special training. Now."

No.

No, today wasn't a special training day, he always got a week between special training days, he couldn't... he wasn't ready... he was never ready... he couldn't!"

No amount of flailing and pleading on his part even got Reginald Hargreeves to slow down, his hand clamped firmly around the boy's upper arm, the child's shoes barely scraping the ground as he was hauled to the mausoleum.

[angry_friendship_wolf]

Courtesy of Lyrics.com's random song:

"The music begins and the tidals fade in / Starring you and me."

[skyhigh_seance]

The music was just as loud and rambunctious (as this time and place gets, anyway) as it was then they'd all first arrived - a platoon fresh on leave, ready for a good time. It's hours and hours later now, and he's back in a hallway just off the main room - close enough to hear the music, far enough that no one can see them.

He wasn't expecting this. He was expecting a bit of a crush, something to entertain for a few weeks while he got his bearing and recovered from that absolutely charming torture sesh, and then pop back to the future and evidently the end of the world. Who knows, maybe they'll be able to stop it. Maybe he doesn't care.

Except.

He has his arm around a waist that's trim, taunt with muscles and grace. He's slow-dancing to a song he barely recognizes, sharing whiskey-stung breath and hungry kisses alike. His whole world has been upended, lost in the gorgeous sky-blue of this GI's eyes.

Dave.

Forget the future. All he wants is the now, this now, right here, for as long as he can hold on to it.

[thebattycakes]

After a long weekend of couch surfing with Disney+ and Netflix I could use a creative reboot so let's do this.

Barry Allen
Cisco Ramon
Matt Murdock
Logan

It's Monday in the office, so might be sporadic but I'll get to these as I can!

[angry_friendship_wolf]

Via Lyrics.com's random song thingy (well, on the second attempt, because the first attempt gave me a song entirely in Spanish):

"Today seems like a perfect day / To say what I've been wanting to say."

For whichever pup that fits best.

[holdingacat]

1) I don't wanna feel like a stranger / Cos I'd rather stay out of danger
2) You just gotta be strong and believe in yourself / Forget all the sadness cause love is all you need.
3) Listen all you people, come gather round / I gotta get me a game plan, gotta shake you to the ground
4) In this world of cool deception / Just your smile can smooth my ride

Mix and match as it inspires!

[angry_friendship_wolf]

Yamato Ishida.

[thebattycakes]

Shuffle strikes!

"Oh God / If you're out there won't you hear me / I know we've never talked before"

or

"I know I took the path that you would never want for me / I know I let you down, didn't I?"

[holdingacat]

Don't expect me / to behave perfectly / and wear that sunny smile

[holdingacat]

This guy, please!

[angry_friendship_wolf]

Lyrics.com has given me:

"Your beauty is an aeroplane / So high my heart can't bear the strain."

Shot through the heart, and you're to blame

[holdingacat]

The press conference is held at Big Rico's - both because it is lunch time and some folks still need to get in their government-mandated weekly slices of pizza, and because it's close by the lab where the outsider scientists have set up. It's pretty much standing room only, between the lunch crowd and the assembly from the mayor's office and the representatives from the Vague Yet Menacing Government Agency. Cecil gives the latter group a nod as he sidles in, taking the last free bit of space against the back wall. He's been hearing about these scientists all morning, and he can't wait to see them for himself.

There is a flurry of moment at the head table, and there they are, looking nervous (as they should be) and fascinated (as they also should be), and...

Oh.

Oh.

Cecil is very sure that his heart (treacherous straw-filled thing that it is) should not be flopping about in his chest like a landed fish, but that's what it feels like its doing, stunned into rebellion by the perfect vision of beauty that's now standing before him.

Before all of them, really, with his gorgeous hair, his delicate dark-toned skin, his teeth like a military cemetery, his caramel, oaky tones pealing from that perfect mouth...

Cecil sighs, stricken and helpless, as he sags against the wall.

Carlos the Scientist is perfect, and he falls in love instantly. His failing, fluttering heart tells him so.

[thebattycakes]

Shuffle!

"Yesterday I spent asleep / Woke up in my clothes in a dirty heap"

or

"Dressed up just like Ziggy but he couldn't play guitar"

Don't try this at home

[holdingacat]

"MR PALMER!" The voice is loud, and official, and not-a-little impatient. The banging on his front door is even more so. He's sort of surprised that the door hasn't come down, with that much banging.

Cecil groans, and attempts to peel his face off of the couch. Something, a pair of somethings at least, clink near his feet when he shifts, feebly. Some of that pounding probably isn't the door. Some is definitely his head.

Ugh.

"MR CECIL GERSHWIN PALMER!" The voice outside howls, and Cecil winces. Both because that noise went straight through his head, and because it's never good when the Secret Police start using your full name. Stumbling, swaying, less grace and more awkward flopping slouch, Cecil makes his way to the front door, dodging two more empty bottles on the way. It takes him three tries to get his door unlocked, and he nearly gets hit in the head by the fist pounding on the door when he does, but... yay. Result.

"Mr..." There's an audible, horrible pause as the balaclava-swathed official takes in Cecil's appearance. He knows he must look absolutely atrocious, but... he can't quite dig himself out from under his hangover enough to care.

"Mr Palmer, you are to be escorted to the station for your show, and then to re-education afterwards." Cecil frowns muzzily at the order.

"Bu... But I'm off. Today. No work." He manages, words coming thick and slow and uuuuuugh, words, right?

"No sir. Your day off was yesterday. You were supposed to be on the air half an hour ago." The officer corrects, audibly torn between concern and stunned disbelief. Cecil feels poleaxed as well - he doesn't remember having drunk enough to black out for 48 hours, but... well. Thank goodness he hadn't arranged anything with Janice, he doesn't need to prove himself a worse uncle than he already is.

"Oh. Um. Thank you." He knows the officer doesn't have to be here. Station Management could have sent for him themselves, but... that would have gone poorly for everyone.

Everyone.

But especially him.

"Just... um. Gimme a moment. Be... right there." Cecil vows, because he really shouldn't add 'public indecency' to his list of problems, and his attire leaves something to be desired. Mostly pants. Pants are desired.

He sneaks a look at his phone as he scrounges up some less-than-utterly-disgusting clothing.

0 new messages.
0 new texts.

No snapchats.

oh.

[splash_of_blue]

Yo.

USUAL TRIBE:
Sam Linnfer
Molly Hayes
Minerva McGonagall
Raoul of Goldenlake
Phil Coulson
Snow Leopard Woman
Victoria
War
Poe Dameron
BB-8

BONUS RABBLE:
Dr Max DeBryn
Nebula
Aziraphael
Crowley
Carol Danvers
Bumblebee
Singularity
Bets Hilton
Selina Kyle (Bale!movie flavour)

[holdingacat]

For Minerva, Phil, Poe, and BB8:

1) Misuse her and you'll lose her as a friend
2) Where will I be tomorrow / Will I beg or will I borrow?
3) Water babies singing in a lily-pool delight / Blue powder monkeys praying in the dead of night
4) I feel so romantic, can we do it again / Can we do it again sometime?

... Mix and match as you will, I swear these are all Queen lyrics, I just am rolling the dice exceedingly poorly tonight. Pick some other pups if they inspire. I... I just don't know.

[ceitfianna]

Very late to this as I've been traveling all day but hope to use my snow day tomorrow to do some writing. So send some my way.

Cassian Andor
Quentin
Sameth
Demeter

[holdingacat]

1) Sister - I live and I lie for you / Mister - do and I'll die

2) You call me sweet like I'm some kind of cheese

3) Walking down the street / shooting people that I meet

4) The world expects a man / to buckle down and to shovel shit


... Mix and match however you please. I'm sorry, the lyrics gods are weird today. ... These are Queen lyrics, I swear.

entirely unrelated

[i_am_your_host]

but I am loving your lyrics choices and I can identify every single one, ahaha