meme from tonks and lucius

[john_h_holliday]

Give me a story I never wrote ( crack!AUs, crossovers, etc. totally a GO! as well as any of my characters you know of or you know I could write (even Henry)), and I'll give you a line from it. Tag more than once if you have other ideas or stories!

Yes! I will limit myself to a line! I can do it!

Have had difficulty writing lately. It will pass. Meantime, this is fun.

Comments

[pinkhairedauror.insanejournal.com]

*laughs* My 'lines' are close to 'paragraphs' really >.>

Lessee...

John ends up in a situation where he can hear Christine Daaé sing. Somehow.

Tonks makes a mistake apparating and ends up in John's (and Gabe's) home. What's it like? What happens?

[john_h_holliday.insanejournal.com]

John is in Denver as 'Tom McKey' on the run from Texas. He has yet to meet Wyatt, Billy Leonard or Eddie Foy, but he loves the theatre and especially the opera house. The woman on the stage is beautiful and elegant, her voice lifts high and pure, mournful and beautiful, filling the hall though she is so slight. For a moment John is not a broken dissolute ex-dentist, but a gentleman connoisseur, and his fingertips brush the rich silk of his waistcoat to confirm it. His mother gave him music. It stays with him always and he smiles.

All right. I couldn't really do it. 100 words exactly, so it is a drabble. Second one as soon as I ask Gabe. But I wrote it!

[john_h_holliday.insanejournal.com]

The room is cool, despite the summer, a big wicker ceiling fan turning silently. The window is open, the thin white curtains curving into the room in billows. The huge bed is covered invitingly with pillows and quilts. Everything is absolutely clean. The flat surfaces have exact rows of gentleman's toiletries, cards, knives and similar accoutrements. Gunbelts hang at a tidy desk, overseeing a jumble of shells, picnic skewers, rough blankets, scatterings of seaweed and wilting succulents. Two sets of clothes are folded precisely. From an open door come splashings. Two laughing voices sing a comic song about a duck.

That is a drabble too. *grins sheepishly*

Henry. for Camilla

[john_h_holliday.insanejournal.com]

The world of death is austere and Henry scarcely resides in it. Who would have imagined that in the easy happy times in Julian's classes, which had been so easily shattered, the old toast 'Live Forever' would have proved effective? At least it had been for him. With his ephemeral roving, he has not seen Bunny. Why does Camilla not search for him? If she would only open the old books, speak of the Colossus of Rhodes in her soft Greek, Henry could be there, a ghostly hand laid to her pale shoulder, with a scent of roses and raspberries.