challenge

[cornerofmadness]

I've found a new song I like by Sarah Mclachlan (well new to me at any rate) and thought this could be used for so many ships. My challenge is if you're inspired by these VERY odd lyrics write a fic. If not, no big deal (I think me ELD and Kristi still wanted to use the last set of lyrics I put up "A Whisper in Time). No deadline or anything. Stick it in your files for whenever.

Building a Mystery
Sarah Mclachlan

You come out at night
That's when the energy comes
And the dark side's light
And the vampires roam
You strut your rasta wear
And your suicide poem
And a cross from a faith that died
Before Jesus came
You're building a mystery

You live in a church
Where you sleep with voodoo dolls
And you won't give up the search
For the ghosts in the halls
You wear sandals in the snow
And a smile that won't wash away
Can you look out the window
Without your shadow getting in the way?

You're so beautiful
With an edge and charm
but so careful
When I'm in your arms

Cause you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

You woke up screaming aloud
A prayer from your secret god
You feed off our fears
And hold back your tears, oh
Give us a tantrum
And a know it all grin
Just when we need one
When the evening's thin

You're a beautiful
A beautiful fucked up man
You're setting up your
Razor wire shrine

Cause you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

Ooh you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully

You're building a mystery

 

well I'm off to call the psychiatrist (no, really)

Comments

[bashipforever.livejournal.com]

Ooo maybe I can get my muse to work on that whisper song. I still have the lyrics and I have an idea the muse turned her nose up at it last time. Maybe she'll be more receptive this time.

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

muses get so damn picky

[bashipforever.livejournal.com]

Yes picky picky muses, but hey look what mine decided to do with those Whisper in Time lyrics

Title: Messengers of Memory
Pairing: Past B/A
Summary: Angel’s human future is everything and nothing that he thought it would be.
Rating: PG
A/N: This was for Dana. She wanted a story using the lyrics to Whisper in Time by Bad Religion. I didn’t actually use the lyrics much except for inspiration.


A nightlight cast an amber glow across the bed. Angel couldn’t help the smile that raced across his face at the sight of his daughter, Caragh curled up in the big bed. He had to catch his breath and his beating heart ached at the sight of her. He slipped across the room and into the bed next to her. The little girl turned over, her dark brown hair sleep mussed.

“I thought you weren’t coming to bed.” A pout formed naturally on her mouth. She had her mother’s mouth, a Summers mouth.

He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “Now why would I do that, Iounin?”

“Sometimes you forget. Sometimes you start thinking about Mommy and you forget to come to bed.”

He pushed away the pain to smile at his daughter. “How do you know I’m thinking about Mommy?”

“Because your face does this falling down thing and your eyes get all shiny like you wanna cry but you don’t think you can with me here.”

She was astute for a six year old.

“Tell me stories,” she demanded.

Angel chuckled and stretched out on the bed, opening his arms and allowing her to scramble up next to him. “Mommy was a golden haired angel.”

“Like you?” The little girl’s green eyes searched his own brown ones.

Angel shook his head. “No, Mommy was a much better angel then I’ll ever be.”

“You always say that.”

Angel tweaked her nose playfully. “It’s always true, now are going to let me tell the story?”

The little girl nodded.

“Alright, your mommy was a golden haired angel-“

“And she’s a real angel now, with wings and everything,” the little girl interrupted again.

Angel chuckled sadly. “With wings and everything.” He paused and kissed her on top of her head. “Mommy loves you more then anything else in the world.”

“That’s why she had to go to Heaven to save it.”

Angel nodded. “That’s why she had to go to Heaven to save it, because she loves you, Caragh.”

“I know, Daddy. Tell me ‘bout all the things Mommy and I would play if she wasn’t a real angel.”

They played this game often, almost every night. Angel had started it when Caragh was still a small baby, shortly after Buffy had died. He had been desperate to make sure Caragh knew who her mother was, even though she’d never remember Buffy’s smile, or Buffy’s laugh. Angel wove stories about picnics Buffy would have taken her on, trips to Disneyland, tea parties and playing dress up.

Eventually Caragh fell into sleep. Her breathing evened out and her tiny heartbeat slowed. Angel curled her tiny body into his and kissed the top of her head. His tears made a slow trek down his cheeks. She’d never know how Buffy loved with everything inside of her. She’d never know how much her mother adore her, unless he told her. Angel was Caragh’s messenger of memory.


Whisper in Time
by Bad Religion

all those stories that my dad told me,
they are just a whisper in time
all those things that never came to be,
they are just a whisper in time
a whisper in time, a whisper in time
things that I can't shake from my mind
a whisper in time, a whisper in time
moments that just flicker and die
(memories that flicker and die)
all those places I wanted to go,
they are just a whisper in time
all those friends who now I do not know,
they are just a whisper in time
maps and roads that brought me here today,
they are just a whisper in time
circumstances that were explained away,
they are just a whisper in time
...we are messengers of memory,
just whispers in time