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Apr. 3rd, 2009 08:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tallulahgs[Title] Drinking to Victory
[Fandom] George Orwell's 1984
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Set after the climax of the book. Winston considers gin.
It was appropriate, Winston thought, that it was called Victory Gin.
And then he wasn't sure why he'd had that thought, and so he decided that he must have come to the conclusion because gin was a luxury, and luxuries were a privilege, and privileges were only available during times of plenty and wealth, which this certainly was. Tears came to his eyes, and he was almost sure that it was pride in Oceania, although the smell of the gin, cutting sharply through his sinuses, may have had something to do with it.
His conclusion was wrong. Later, just before falling asleep, he thought that he'd worked it out.
Gin allowed him a personal victory over himself. Drink enough gin, and it stops you from thinking. A lack of thought means a lack of thoughtcrime. Drink enough, and you become blameless.
Or, perhaps, it stops from you thinking other thoughts. Ones that other people forced into your head. But this never occurred to Winston, because he knew that he loved Big Brother.
[Title] First Times
[Fandom] Black Lagoon
[Rating] PG-13
[Notes/Summary] The Lagoon Company each reveal the first time they got drunk.
Rock couldn't remember how they'd got on to the subject of drinking. He certainly wouldn't have chosen the topic himself, because while he knew he could hold his drink reasonably well, once they moved on to stupid things I've done while drunk, he would be hopelessly outclassed and probably start wondering why he was hanging around with these people at all.
"The first time I ever got plastered?" Benny was saying. The lights outside were glinting in his glasses. "Hmm... I think it's gotta be my brother's bar mitzvah."
Revy snorted. "What the fuck kind of time is that to vomit into the gutter for the first time?"
"It's a time when there's a lot of half-drunk glasses of wine around, and I was curious," Benny said, straightening his glasses and grinning at her.
Revy rolled her eyes. Lighting another cigarette, she said round it, "Dutch? Think you can top that?"
The big man laughed, and, without looking away from the window, said, "Nah. Mine was the same as anyone's. One too many in someone's backyard. Must've been in high school. I forget the exact time."
"Huh." Revy stretched out a foot, kicked Rock hard in the shin. "And what about you? Don't tell me it was on your first day at work."
Rock shook his head.
"My brother and I raided my dad's drinks cabinet," he said. "I was fifteen."
Revy hooted with laughter.
"Being led into crime even then, huh?" Benny said.
"Bet you were sick." Revy blew smoke into the air, let her head loll back against the wall, a tired grin on her face. "Did you drink everything you found?"
"Pretty much, yeah." Rock grinned, feeling himself blush a little. "I couldn't move without throwing up for the entire next day. My parents were furious; they thought it had been my idea."
"Huh." Revy looked up, smirked at him. "What the hell's your brother like? He must be even more of a wuss than you for them to finger you as the bad guy."
"Clean-cut," Rock said. The taste of beer was sour in his mouth. "Intelligent."
"Oh, right. I get it, then."
"Okay, when did you first get smashed?" Rock sat up a little to stare back into her eyes. "I bet it was far more epic than any of our stories."
Revy's grin slid off her face as if she were bored of smiling.
"Nah," she said. "I'm like Dutchy here. I don't remember the time."
She shrugged, stubbed her cigarette out, flicked the butt into one of the beer cans.
"Been too long ago. Know what I mean?"
For a moment, she almost looked reflective.
Then she sprang to her feet. "This is boring as hell. Who sits around talking about drinking when they could be going out doing it? Let's get moving."
[Fandom] George Orwell's 1984
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Set after the climax of the book. Winston considers gin.
It was appropriate, Winston thought, that it was called Victory Gin.
And then he wasn't sure why he'd had that thought, and so he decided that he must have come to the conclusion because gin was a luxury, and luxuries were a privilege, and privileges were only available during times of plenty and wealth, which this certainly was. Tears came to his eyes, and he was almost sure that it was pride in Oceania, although the smell of the gin, cutting sharply through his sinuses, may have had something to do with it.
His conclusion was wrong. Later, just before falling asleep, he thought that he'd worked it out.
Gin allowed him a personal victory over himself. Drink enough gin, and it stops you from thinking. A lack of thought means a lack of thoughtcrime. Drink enough, and you become blameless.
Or, perhaps, it stops from you thinking other thoughts. Ones that other people forced into your head. But this never occurred to Winston, because he knew that he loved Big Brother.
[Title] First Times
[Fandom] Black Lagoon
[Rating] PG-13
[Notes/Summary] The Lagoon Company each reveal the first time they got drunk.
Rock couldn't remember how they'd got on to the subject of drinking. He certainly wouldn't have chosen the topic himself, because while he knew he could hold his drink reasonably well, once they moved on to stupid things I've done while drunk, he would be hopelessly outclassed and probably start wondering why he was hanging around with these people at all.
"The first time I ever got plastered?" Benny was saying. The lights outside were glinting in his glasses. "Hmm... I think it's gotta be my brother's bar mitzvah."
Revy snorted. "What the fuck kind of time is that to vomit into the gutter for the first time?"
"It's a time when there's a lot of half-drunk glasses of wine around, and I was curious," Benny said, straightening his glasses and grinning at her.
Revy rolled her eyes. Lighting another cigarette, she said round it, "Dutch? Think you can top that?"
The big man laughed, and, without looking away from the window, said, "Nah. Mine was the same as anyone's. One too many in someone's backyard. Must've been in high school. I forget the exact time."
"Huh." Revy stretched out a foot, kicked Rock hard in the shin. "And what about you? Don't tell me it was on your first day at work."
Rock shook his head.
"My brother and I raided my dad's drinks cabinet," he said. "I was fifteen."
Revy hooted with laughter.
"Being led into crime even then, huh?" Benny said.
"Bet you were sick." Revy blew smoke into the air, let her head loll back against the wall, a tired grin on her face. "Did you drink everything you found?"
"Pretty much, yeah." Rock grinned, feeling himself blush a little. "I couldn't move without throwing up for the entire next day. My parents were furious; they thought it had been my idea."
"Huh." Revy looked up, smirked at him. "What the hell's your brother like? He must be even more of a wuss than you for them to finger you as the bad guy."
"Clean-cut," Rock said. The taste of beer was sour in his mouth. "Intelligent."
"Oh, right. I get it, then."
"Okay, when did you first get smashed?" Rock sat up a little to stare back into her eyes. "I bet it was far more epic than any of our stories."
Revy's grin slid off her face as if she were bored of smiling.
"Nah," she said. "I'm like Dutchy here. I don't remember the time."
She shrugged, stubbed her cigarette out, flicked the butt into one of the beer cans.
"Been too long ago. Know what I mean?"
For a moment, she almost looked reflective.
Then she sprang to her feet. "This is boring as hell. Who sits around talking about drinking when they could be going out doing it? Let's get moving."
