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Qualität des Beitrags: Beteiligte Poster: Adamant Forum: Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters.de Forenbeschreibung: Eine Welt- Zwei Seiten. Für welche entscheidet ihr euch? aus dem Unterforum: Fanfictions Antworten: 2 Forum gestartet am: Montag 29.05.2006 Sprache: deutsch Link zum Originaltopic: Just Like Music Letzte Antwort: vor 17 Jahren, 10 Monaten, 16 Tagen, 16 Stunden,
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Re: Just Like Music
Adamant - 08.06.2006, 17:16Just Like Music
Ähm, also ich habe diesen Char nach dem Original der alten MMA gemacht, aber ihn für dieses Forum noch mal drastisch umgeändert... Besonders die Tatsache, dass er Musiker ist. Seltsamerweise war es genau das, was heute früh am Morgen irgendwie den Drang auslöste, etwas zu dem Char zu schreiben. Etwas Überredung von Xaviers Seite aus und ich bin tatsächlich bereit, es zu posten.
Naja, leider ist es auf Englisch. Ich lese in letzter Zeit massig auf Englisch und irgendwie gings gestern nicht auf Deutsch - aber vielleicht übersetze ich es bei Interesse. Okay, dafür müsste es überhaupt erst mal jemand lesen...
Egal. Titel ist 'Just Like Music', ein One-Shot, aber vielleicht kommen mir ja noch ein paar geniale Ideen. *hüstel*
Re: Just Like Music
Adamant - 08.06.2006, 17:17
Striding down the path, Allan took in the surroundings. Trees, dusty green, their colours marred by summer’s heat. The grass had a slightly dry look to it, too, and most of the fountains were off due to draught. Everything was filled with the sharp smell of heat, the smell of dry earth and hot asphalt, dust and baked air.
It was just a dumb rumour that England did not know summers oder sunshine. But he had to admit that heat like this and especially so dry would be hard to find back home. Home? His long, dexterous fingers moved uneasily. This was his home right now, as it had been for years. New York… New York…
A commotion caught his eye. A group of people stalked across one of the dry lawns, aimed at a small pavillion. Nothing odd about that, had it not been for the most obvious signs those people were not here to find some shade and greenery to relax. First, they all wore strange clothes, a bit like fantasy uniforms. Second, one of them had a tail. Long, with a delta-shaped tip and dark fur covering it entirely.
First Allan froze, then his brain caught up with what he saw. He reached out, touched Melanie on the shoulder. The teenager turned, somewhat annoyed he intruded on her chatter with Summer, her best friend from high school. “What?”, she snapped.
“Possible danger”, he answered, stepping in front of her. The group of mutants – for nothing else they could be – had almost reached the pavillion. On the background, other people started to move away as soon as they realized who had just walked past. Some stood up from the ground where they had been laying next to now frightened-looking girlfriends working on their tan. The mutants glanced at Allan and the two girls behind him, but did not stop or waver.
“Flare!!”, a huge man roared. “Flare, you come out now or…”
Befor he could describe what happened in the case of ‘or’ the pavillion exploded. Shrapnel whistled through the air, painting a strange pattern on the sky and ground and instinctively Allan raised a shield, in front of him, above him, sparkling pure energy. The splinters bounced off his manifested willpower and he heard the girls shriek, move away.
“Stay!”, he shouted, hands raised. His fingers moved like playing piano, helping his mind to guide the flows of energy. It was like music, he realized, just like music. “Stay, or I cannot protect you!”
Melanie seemed to find a bit of her composure, grabbed her shrieking friend and tugged her in tight, both suddenly huddling close to Allan. He swallowed, peering through the crystal haze of his shields and the smoke and debris. Some of the mutants managed to get back on their feet, two didn’t. Screams told of those people in the vicinity that had not drifted away as soon as the mutants had arrived. The pavillion was a smoldering ruin, the wood splintered and burst like toothpicks. Had someone blown themselves up? Unbidden visions of blood splattering across his shields in a decorated hearing room came to his mind, but he forced them away, concentrated on his powers, keeping the shield up.
Did he have to keep it up? It almost looked like everything was over, whatever everything had been. He relaxed, sapping the power of the shields, when the ruined pavillion started spitting out huge balls of golden incandescense, rolling across the dry grass that immediately caught fire, eneveloping the giant man of the mutant group who led out a high-pitched shriek eerily unfittig with the man’s size. More of the burning projectiles burst from the pavillion, headed in every direction, tumbling across the ground, whirling into the sky like water from some mad burning fountain, hissing angrily towards Allan with the sound of a thousand insectoid wings.
Panicking, he threw his hands up again. Like music? Like a screaming Minor-chord, played on the biggest organ of all the churches in NY-city, like the thunder of taiko drums. All his concentration and energy he took and forced into the shield as fire rained down on them. It was like the smack from the hand of a god, an angry, blazing god of fire and volcanoes. Allan felt himself literally pressed into the ground, his body caving in from the blow his shields had taken. But still, he kept his hands up, kept the music flowing from his soul. The world was a choir, bass lines thrumming, ethereal sopranoes climbing into the sky, a requiem with the brute and yet subtle force of feeling only a Mozart could ban onto paper.
Melanie was silent – or maybe he didn’t hear her crying out frantically or sobbing. His ears were filled with roaring fire-music, deft chords, bold strokes on the sheets, transformed into a spitting and hissing crescendo of wailing flames. It was the music of fury, the music of all-enveloping flame eagerly eating away anything that would burn. And he only had a sad, intelligent little piano-tune to keep up against the thunderous symphony of fire.
He played his music, while the earth around him buckled and screamed and added its own lines to the roaring melodies of destruction. He concentrated on every note, its intonation, imagined using the pedals, felt the cool imitated ivory and ebony of the piano at the MMA underneath his fingers.
The shield stood agaonst the havoc wreaked across the park. It stood and Allan stood, too, when the rain of fire dissipated. He found himself inside a perfect sphere, half covered in dirt thrown against it. The girls cowered next to him, silent. Embers smouldered, grass burned, rock cracked.
Allan made the last chord come from his tired fingers, left it resounding until he moved his feet from the pedals. He let his arms sink to his side. The music had ended, the strange little minor tune had stood against the roaring choirs of fire’s hymns and the screaming requiem of earth exploding all around them. Allan smiled faintly, then his shields flickered, shone in brilliant rainbowes as they cracked. He fell down, crumpled next to the girls who were still too shocked to realize anything that happened, unconscious and enwrapped in strangest melodies whispering into his slipping mind.
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