ext_130185 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
seremela2.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2009-11-16 01:03 am
seremela2.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-11-16 01:03 am
Entry tags:
Star Wars/Velvet Goldmine (PG13)
Ieiep! Crossover day! I almost forgot....
Title: Lost Jedi
Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn/Curt Wild
Author: Augusta Pembrooke
Author on lj: no idea
Author website: not that I know of, but her stories are on Masters &Apprentices
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Qui-Gon Jinn/Curt Wild
Why this fic is awesome: Actually, because it's so sad. You just know that someone is going to get hurt, even with everyone involved only wanting to do what's best for the others, only want to help. Great characterisations too.
Excerpt:
CURT
I was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the living room of my London townhouse, with four assorted household objects circling me like satellites - one ashtray (full of butts), one rubber duck wearing a barbie wig (long story, okay?), a can of Comet cleaner levitated in from the kitchen, and an almost full glass of wine. The wine glass was really conceited of me - I'd topped it up before I added it to the orbit. I was thinking about adding a fifth object, maybe the big gaudy crystal cigarette lighter on the coffee table - get it out of my reach, you know? I was already on my fourth pack today, and my throat was killing me.
The first four were easy to me now; I'd never successfully added a fifth before. The ability to divide my focus wasn't quite there yet - I just wasn't fast enough to turn my attention to a fifth thing while still dealing with the four I was already handling. Weird way to juggle, but it was something to do, and it kept me off the streets.
Always in the back of my mind was that nagging hunger. It distracted me, annoyed me. I'd been clean for two years, almost, but the want never goes away - it's always there in the background, a living thing, just waiting for me to weaken. I heard someone else's voice in my mind then - the man I had come to think of as the Master. It used to spook me that he could talk to me without saying a word, but by now I was used to it. I even liked it; it made me feel less alone. He was telling me 'Strength isn't the point of this exercise. Control is. Control the strength you have.' He's told me that before.
I gave the lighter a nudge and felt it rise a few inches. I was thinking about how to move it into my array of orbiting objects when I felt something snap, and everything dropped to the floor. Fuck. Wine and cigarette butts everywhere. Story of my life.
I turned to look at the master, who was standing with his back to me looking out the window down to the river. He turned towards me and gave me a questioning look, while I searched for the source of the mental snap that had broken my concentration. And found it not in something that was there, but something that was no longer there... the craving for smack that was a constant part of my mind for the past seven years was simply - gone.
"Huh?" I looked back to Qui-Gon for an explanation.
"It was distracting you - holding you back, interferring with your training. We don't have a lot of time.' That was it - no apology, no nothing.
I could tell the training was having some effect, though; I didn't flare up in anger at his interference, as I would have even a mere month ago. Instead, I was the voice of calm reason when I said "you mean YOU don't have a lot of time. You ever think maybe I didn't want your help?" No raised voice, just a question.
"I know you didn't. That's one of the ... discomforts of the powers you're being trained to use. Sometimes you'll have to make decisions for other people, decisions that they would prefer to make for themselves. It's a lonely path." He turned back to the window, but not before I saw the pain on his face, felt it in his thoughts. "There will be other wants you can't satisfy, if that's what's bothering you."
Oh, I know there will be. There always are. I was looking at one right now.
Lost Jedi
Title: Lost Jedi
Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn/Curt Wild
Author: Augusta Pembrooke
Author on lj: no idea
Author website: not that I know of, but her stories are on Masters &Apprentices
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Qui-Gon Jinn/Curt Wild
Why this fic is awesome: Actually, because it's so sad. You just know that someone is going to get hurt, even with everyone involved only wanting to do what's best for the others, only want to help. Great characterisations too.
Excerpt:
CURT
I was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the living room of my London townhouse, with four assorted household objects circling me like satellites - one ashtray (full of butts), one rubber duck wearing a barbie wig (long story, okay?), a can of Comet cleaner levitated in from the kitchen, and an almost full glass of wine. The wine glass was really conceited of me - I'd topped it up before I added it to the orbit. I was thinking about adding a fifth object, maybe the big gaudy crystal cigarette lighter on the coffee table - get it out of my reach, you know? I was already on my fourth pack today, and my throat was killing me.
The first four were easy to me now; I'd never successfully added a fifth before. The ability to divide my focus wasn't quite there yet - I just wasn't fast enough to turn my attention to a fifth thing while still dealing with the four I was already handling. Weird way to juggle, but it was something to do, and it kept me off the streets.
Always in the back of my mind was that nagging hunger. It distracted me, annoyed me. I'd been clean for two years, almost, but the want never goes away - it's always there in the background, a living thing, just waiting for me to weaken. I heard someone else's voice in my mind then - the man I had come to think of as the Master. It used to spook me that he could talk to me without saying a word, but by now I was used to it. I even liked it; it made me feel less alone. He was telling me 'Strength isn't the point of this exercise. Control is. Control the strength you have.' He's told me that before.
I gave the lighter a nudge and felt it rise a few inches. I was thinking about how to move it into my array of orbiting objects when I felt something snap, and everything dropped to the floor. Fuck. Wine and cigarette butts everywhere. Story of my life.
I turned to look at the master, who was standing with his back to me looking out the window down to the river. He turned towards me and gave me a questioning look, while I searched for the source of the mental snap that had broken my concentration. And found it not in something that was there, but something that was no longer there... the craving for smack that was a constant part of my mind for the past seven years was simply - gone.
"Huh?" I looked back to Qui-Gon for an explanation.
"It was distracting you - holding you back, interferring with your training. We don't have a lot of time.' That was it - no apology, no nothing.
I could tell the training was having some effect, though; I didn't flare up in anger at his interference, as I would have even a mere month ago. Instead, I was the voice of calm reason when I said "you mean YOU don't have a lot of time. You ever think maybe I didn't want your help?" No raised voice, just a question.
"I know you didn't. That's one of the ... discomforts of the powers you're being trained to use. Sometimes you'll have to make decisions for other people, decisions that they would prefer to make for themselves. It's a lonely path." He turned back to the window, but not before I saw the pain on his face, felt it in his thoughts. "There will be other wants you can't satisfy, if that's what's bothering you."
Oh, I know there will be. There always are. I was looking at one right now.
Lost Jedi