hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2004-10-18 10:48 am
hackthis_archive) wrote2004-10-18 10:48 am
Entry tags:
Lost fic - Shannon/Charlie - I Used to Know You When
1. Sekrit message to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
circe_tigana, OMG it's the story that ate my head! I will have to pastede it on later. Also, I am coming for my betas (and bringing 20 pages), so you know, be ready bitches. ::gives most winning smile to lalejandra and serialkarma
2.tarar is making a due South cartoon. It's gorgeous and she's just starting, so go and give her support. *adores madly*
3. Lost, Charlie/Shannon drabble.
I would explore it further, but I'm really tied up right now.
Shannon and Charlie have met before. From the moment she sees him staggering around the wreckage to the moment he tries to re-introduce himself on the on the beach, it's obvious to Shannon that Charlie doesn't remember her at all.
On one hand this pisses her off, because hello, look at her. She is not the forgettable kind of girl. She is Shannon. She has gorgeous hair and immaculate skin and a never-chipped pedicure. On the other hand though, she's kind of glad he can't remember her, because he wasn't really at his best that night and neither was she.
It's not as though she's a fan of Driveshaft or anything, plus Shannon is way too smart to ever be anybody's groupie, unlike her beloved brother or anything, but that's not actually the point.
The point at the time had been that Gemma had wanted to see Driveshaft, and then she'd wanted to meet the band, and Shannon can be very loyal when she wants to be. Plus, she'd never seen a rock band's dressing room before, and she will never forget how incredible ordinary and plain it was. She was very disappointed to be honest, clearly she needed to meet real stars instead of these one-hit wannabes.
She remembers the dressing room was just this cement block room painted blue, and there was this wall with mirrors and really dim light bulbs, which nobody could get a good look at their reflection in or anything. There was a broken down couch with like eight people on it, and there was this band of slackers surrounded by all these supermodels, who weren't even that cute. Shannon was ready to go home the minute she walked through the door, but Gemma wanted to stay and there was free alcohol and stuff.
So Shannon picked up a Heineken and tried to look as though she belonged in the throng of smoke and random people who maybe she could actually identify if she looked them in the eye.
Eventually she found herself sitting on a broken-down chair in the corner, wishing Gemma would hurry up and do whatever she was going to do so they could leave. Shannon was bored and tired, and the concert hadn't even been that good. 'Everybody' was the only song she knew, and even now she only remembers Charlie because he sidled up to her broken chair and offered her some heroin of the back of his hand.
He looked really glazed then, and now when she sees him walking around the plane wreckage, she recognizes when he's high. It explains why he can’t remember her she supposes, and in a way she’s glad he’s always this way, because she wouldn’t want to be remembered as that girl in a corner anyway.
She has an image to protect.
-end-
4. I like my stories short and concise. I like my poetry the same way:
if I don't drive around the park,
I'm pretty sure to make my mark.
if I'm in bed each night by ten,
I may get back my looks again.
if I abstain from fun and such,
I'll probably amount to much;
but I shall stay the way I am,
because I do not give a damn.
- observation, by Dorothy Parker
circe_tigana, OMG it's the story that ate my head! I will have to pastede it on later. Also, I am coming for my betas (and bringing 20 pages), so you know, be ready bitches. ::gives most winning smile to lalejandra and serialkarma2.
tarar is making a due South cartoon. It's gorgeous and she's just starting, so go and give her support. *adores madly*3. Lost, Charlie/Shannon drabble.
I would explore it further, but I'm really tied up right now.
Shannon and Charlie have met before. From the moment she sees him staggering around the wreckage to the moment he tries to re-introduce himself on the on the beach, it's obvious to Shannon that Charlie doesn't remember her at all.
On one hand this pisses her off, because hello, look at her. She is not the forgettable kind of girl. She is Shannon. She has gorgeous hair and immaculate skin and a never-chipped pedicure. On the other hand though, she's kind of glad he can't remember her, because he wasn't really at his best that night and neither was she.
It's not as though she's a fan of Driveshaft or anything, plus Shannon is way too smart to ever be anybody's groupie, unlike her beloved brother or anything, but that's not actually the point.
The point at the time had been that Gemma had wanted to see Driveshaft, and then she'd wanted to meet the band, and Shannon can be very loyal when she wants to be. Plus, she'd never seen a rock band's dressing room before, and she will never forget how incredible ordinary and plain it was. She was very disappointed to be honest, clearly she needed to meet real stars instead of these one-hit wannabes.
She remembers the dressing room was just this cement block room painted blue, and there was this wall with mirrors and really dim light bulbs, which nobody could get a good look at their reflection in or anything. There was a broken down couch with like eight people on it, and there was this band of slackers surrounded by all these supermodels, who weren't even that cute. Shannon was ready to go home the minute she walked through the door, but Gemma wanted to stay and there was free alcohol and stuff.
So Shannon picked up a Heineken and tried to look as though she belonged in the throng of smoke and random people who maybe she could actually identify if she looked them in the eye.
Eventually she found herself sitting on a broken-down chair in the corner, wishing Gemma would hurry up and do whatever she was going to do so they could leave. Shannon was bored and tired, and the concert hadn't even been that good. 'Everybody' was the only song she knew, and even now she only remembers Charlie because he sidled up to her broken chair and offered her some heroin of the back of his hand.
He looked really glazed then, and now when she sees him walking around the plane wreckage, she recognizes when he's high. It explains why he can’t remember her she supposes, and in a way she’s glad he’s always this way, because she wouldn’t want to be remembered as that girl in a corner anyway.
She has an image to protect.
-end-
4. I like my stories short and concise. I like my poetry the same way:
if I don't drive around the park,
I'm pretty sure to make my mark.
if I'm in bed each night by ten,
I may get back my looks again.
if I abstain from fun and such,
I'll probably amount to much;
but I shall stay the way I am,
because I do not give a damn.
- observation, by Dorothy Parker
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Seriously.
My mom was like, Come on Circe, we have to go, and I said, Mom, I can't Zahra and Theodore are coming over.
Seriously.
::headdesk::
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He wouldn't even let me sleep. I am v worried now that you won't like the story and then you'll tell me you do just to be nice. ::frets for five seconds:: Over it! If you don't like it, that's okay, I do!
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Also every fucking time I see that icon, I snort with laughter. Love it. Love it. Want to make a bucnh of "My Fandom" icons for Lost already.
*Lurves her Z*
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She has an image to protect.
Dude - you're brilliant!
Excellent stuff. Thanks for posting!
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Love me some Dorothy Parker.
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That's just perfect. I can see Shannon so clearly at the moment. Great story!
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yis
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