40fandoms: Fandoms 37 and 38
Apr. 18th, 2014 07:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tallulahgs[Title] Cracked
[Fandom] Bugsy Malone
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] As the gang war hots up, Tallulah receives a phone call.
Sam pays the rent on this apartment, so Tallulah's kinda living the dream – but, like most everything Sam has, it's sort of not-quite perfect, a little broken at the edges. So the bed creaks and the window's tiny and looks out onto an air shaft and sure, there's a telephone, but only all in the hall, not one of those swanky places with a line in every room. Doesn't usually matter to Tallulah 'cause she's hardly there, and when she is she doesn't take calls, she's not that kind of lady of leisure, but tonight the landlady thumps on the door and the hallway is cold and lit only by a dim bulb in a really ugly fringed lampshade and Tallulah wraps her fluffy feathered housecoat round herself and says, “So who's this?” and then the answer comes back:
“Miss Tallulah? Your employer and I have... spoken in the past... he probably refers to me as Dandy Dan?”
And Tallulah's really wishing she was tucked away in her room.
Her mind goes all chattery, don't let 'em see you're scared, never let 'em see you're scared and so on automatic she says, “He's mentioned you a few times, sure. To what do I owe the pleasure? Guess leaving a note at work'd be a little awkward for ya?” Why is he calling? How did he know where to call? She's straightening up a little, wishing she had a powder compact or something to act interested in, even though the hall is way too dark for anyone to see her -
Right?
“I wanted to speak with you,” Dan's saying. “You must be aware of the situation between myself and Fat Sam Staccato?” He bites off the words. Tallulah wants to say something like only his friends get to call him fat, honey, just to have a comeback, just to feel less like the dumb dora taken by surprise. But blurting something stupid'd be worse than saying nothing. (Everyone calls him Fat Sam. Even his nickname's down-at-heel, isn't it?)
“I guess,” she says now, trying to sound bored. “You're messing up enough of my numbers, at least.”
“You're a talented performer. Ever thought about moving on from your current establishment?”
“Hey, it's the most happening joint in town. Like the song says... though I guess your guys don't ever stay long enough to hear it.” Her hands on the telephone are damp and her heart's going double-time in her ears. She licks her lips. Poker face. She is a performer, after all.
“It concerns me, someone with the skills and beauty to make a new life for themselves remaining in what could be a dangerous situation.”
Tallulah breathes in slowly and says – like she's flirting, like how she speaks to Sam when she wants something - “Oh. Is that a threat, honey? Or is it... more of a proposal?”
“My beef is with Sam,” he says, kinda mocking like he's flirting back. “Not with the innocent bystanders. But... people get hurt, sometimes. Accidents happen.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you're a big draw for Sam's establishment. It'd be a shame if he lost your talent. So, if you were seeking an alternative employment... well, I hope you'd come to someone who appreciates that.”
Tallulah doesn't agonise about decision-making. Mostly she does stuff because she knows the right answer deep down, even if she doesn't know she knows it. And right now, she isn't even considering this creepy little job offer. (Is it just she doesn't trust Dan? Is it she'd feel kinda sorry for Sam, bailing on him now? They all know if she walked, it'd be another nail in the coffin. Not the final one, but enough. And... she's tough, but she's not that mean.
Or is it she'd actually miss his temper tantrums and lapses into Italian lamentation?)
(No. Let's go with not trusting Dan. Anything else is way too corny.)
She makes herself giggle. “Wow... you say the sweetest things! But I couldn't do that to Sam. He's done so much for my career. It'd break his heart.” Pretend she has no clue about what's really going on. Even if they both know it's a lie.
“I'm sorry to hear that. I do hope you'll reconsider.” He sounds warm and polite – Sam'd be yelling and stamping his feet – but he rings off before she can say anything and she's left in dull light listening to dead silence.
If she scurries upstairs quicker than usual she can tell herself it's 'cause her feet are cold. And once she's there she breathes out again, sticks her chin out as she catches her reflection's eye.
You could've just made a big mistake, it tells her. I mean, come on. Who's really going to make it to the top? And Sam wouldn't hesitate to drop you if there was something in it for him.
Tallulah rolls her eyes and puts the wireless on. So maybe she's a bit cracked. But like she said, most of Sam's stuff isn't quite perfect.
[Title] Pairings
[Fandom] Jet Set Radio/Jet Set Radio Future
[Rating] PG
[Notes/summary] JSR!Gum and JSRF!Gum talk about boys, girls, and staying chill. Mentions of various pairings.
The sky is dark, but Benten is a cloud of light on the horizon and over in Kogane there's a few pale stripes of cloud from the last of the sunset.
Gum lies on her back on the roof and breathes out and some of the stomach-aching tension from meeting your... future self, or grown-up granddaughter, or parallel universe double, or whoever this girl is, some of that tension starts to fade. It's been a few days, and no one's laughing at her for not being as hot or as cool as her twin, and said twin seems maybe just as weirded out as her, for all she's trying to hide it.
“Beat and I made out a few times,” she says, letting the words float up to the sky. “But it... got weird.”
“Huh. Not surprised -”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“He's kind of a dork, is all,” other-Gum says. “Awkward. Shy. Fumbling...”
Gum wants to argue, but it's kind of true. She shrugs.
“Me and mine have more of a friends-with-benefits arrangement,” other her says. “Know there won't be any sappiness involved, you know? Okay... Garam.”
Gum shakes her head. “Wouldn't say no, though.” She feels herself blush a little. Her double laughs: “He does have the best abs. I mean, by far.”
“You?”
“Yeah, a couple'a times. We knew each other from before, so I figured why not? He's kind of a jerk but... not a bad jerk, just mouthy with it. And cute, so yeah.”
A car in the distance, speeding music. Gum stretches out her legs and says, “Slate? No, wait, yours is Soda, isn't he?”
“Uh-huh. And nope. He likes to pretend he's not into anything so mainstream as making out. And I mean, who knows what he's got under that collar? He could have a soul patch or something. Uh-uh.”
“Yeah, me neither. He just... keeps himself to himself.”
“Combo?”
“No,” Gum says. “I'd never – I'd feel like I was pinching him off of Cube. I mean I dunno if they are... or if they were... but... some people are just... you feel like they got a load of other stuff before they knew you and it...” She's talking too much. She makes herself stop, say, “You?”
“Yup. Just a few hook-ups, but – hey, I say just, it was amazing. I love a guy who can literally pick me up with one hand.” A snicker. “'Course, our Cube's a little bit more of a headcase than yours. Speaking of which?”
“What, you're asking if I... with Cube?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“No! No, I mean I... I mean it's not like...” Oh god she was definitely blushing now. “I mean I'm not... I just...”
“Woah, woah, chill out. Sorry, I kind of assumed you'd be at least a little bi-curious.”
Gum was most definitely not about to acknowledge any curious she may have had about Cube. “Let's just... keep it to dudes only, okay? Uh – you said it's Corn, not Tab, for you, right?”
“Yup. And nope. It's one of those like-a-sister things, it'd be weird. Bleugh. What about you? A beanie hat do it for you?”
“I... I dunno. We've been friends all our lives, it...” She's so not about to say to this oh-so-confident version of herself that she sometimes thinks it might be comfortable, might be nice, if she and Tab managed to... well. Yeah. “If it went to hell, it'd really suck.”
“Meh... I find mostly if you stay chill, things don't go that south. You can just do it, and if it sucks, stop doing it.”
“Yeah, well, you're clearly way better at chill than me all round, aren't you?”
She expected another snarky answer, but her double just said, “Maybe I just fake it more. Maybe you just don't hide it.”
“Which is better?”
“Hell if I know. Well, if the girls are off-limits, then...” A smile in her voice. “Yo-Yo?”
Gum snorts. “I'd feel like such a cradle-snatcher. Give him a few years, let him get tall enough, then we'll talk.”
“Right,” her twin says. “Same here really. Ours is cute, but he's such a kid. I think he's scared of me, to be honest. Or mesmerised by my amazing rack. Could always be that.”
“Well, you do kind of show it off,” Gum says, but she figures she's just stating a fact and her double only answers, “Damn straight. If you've got it, blah blah.”
“Speak for yourself.”
Other-Gum laughs, and Gum looks round to see her sit up, pull her knees to her chest. “Hey, it's distracted the cops at a crucial moment on more'n one occasion. Right - I'm going inside, I swear to god your version of Tokyo's colder than ours.”
She scrambles over to the skylight. Just as she reaches it, she looks back, smirking, and says, “Oh, and by the way – Cube, yes, Rhyth, yes, Boogie, yes, Jazz, no. And Clutch yes, but you don't have one of him. Which is a shame for you, because he's amazing -”
“Okay, this conversation is over,” Gum says, putting her hands over her ears, but she's kind of laughing as well. She wouldn't tell anyone – particularly not her other self – that seeing, let's say, possibilities reflected like this is sort of cool. Sort of interesting, at least. As other-Gum slides through the skylight, she lies back on the roof and studies the sky again.
[Fandom] Bugsy Malone
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] As the gang war hots up, Tallulah receives a phone call.
Sam pays the rent on this apartment, so Tallulah's kinda living the dream – but, like most everything Sam has, it's sort of not-quite perfect, a little broken at the edges. So the bed creaks and the window's tiny and looks out onto an air shaft and sure, there's a telephone, but only all in the hall, not one of those swanky places with a line in every room. Doesn't usually matter to Tallulah 'cause she's hardly there, and when she is she doesn't take calls, she's not that kind of lady of leisure, but tonight the landlady thumps on the door and the hallway is cold and lit only by a dim bulb in a really ugly fringed lampshade and Tallulah wraps her fluffy feathered housecoat round herself and says, “So who's this?” and then the answer comes back:
“Miss Tallulah? Your employer and I have... spoken in the past... he probably refers to me as Dandy Dan?”
And Tallulah's really wishing she was tucked away in her room.
Her mind goes all chattery, don't let 'em see you're scared, never let 'em see you're scared and so on automatic she says, “He's mentioned you a few times, sure. To what do I owe the pleasure? Guess leaving a note at work'd be a little awkward for ya?” Why is he calling? How did he know where to call? She's straightening up a little, wishing she had a powder compact or something to act interested in, even though the hall is way too dark for anyone to see her -
Right?
“I wanted to speak with you,” Dan's saying. “You must be aware of the situation between myself and Fat Sam Staccato?” He bites off the words. Tallulah wants to say something like only his friends get to call him fat, honey, just to have a comeback, just to feel less like the dumb dora taken by surprise. But blurting something stupid'd be worse than saying nothing. (Everyone calls him Fat Sam. Even his nickname's down-at-heel, isn't it?)
“I guess,” she says now, trying to sound bored. “You're messing up enough of my numbers, at least.”
“You're a talented performer. Ever thought about moving on from your current establishment?”
“Hey, it's the most happening joint in town. Like the song says... though I guess your guys don't ever stay long enough to hear it.” Her hands on the telephone are damp and her heart's going double-time in her ears. She licks her lips. Poker face. She is a performer, after all.
“It concerns me, someone with the skills and beauty to make a new life for themselves remaining in what could be a dangerous situation.”
Tallulah breathes in slowly and says – like she's flirting, like how she speaks to Sam when she wants something - “Oh. Is that a threat, honey? Or is it... more of a proposal?”
“My beef is with Sam,” he says, kinda mocking like he's flirting back. “Not with the innocent bystanders. But... people get hurt, sometimes. Accidents happen.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you're a big draw for Sam's establishment. It'd be a shame if he lost your talent. So, if you were seeking an alternative employment... well, I hope you'd come to someone who appreciates that.”
Tallulah doesn't agonise about decision-making. Mostly she does stuff because she knows the right answer deep down, even if she doesn't know she knows it. And right now, she isn't even considering this creepy little job offer. (Is it just she doesn't trust Dan? Is it she'd feel kinda sorry for Sam, bailing on him now? They all know if she walked, it'd be another nail in the coffin. Not the final one, but enough. And... she's tough, but she's not that mean.
Or is it she'd actually miss his temper tantrums and lapses into Italian lamentation?)
(No. Let's go with not trusting Dan. Anything else is way too corny.)
She makes herself giggle. “Wow... you say the sweetest things! But I couldn't do that to Sam. He's done so much for my career. It'd break his heart.” Pretend she has no clue about what's really going on. Even if they both know it's a lie.
“I'm sorry to hear that. I do hope you'll reconsider.” He sounds warm and polite – Sam'd be yelling and stamping his feet – but he rings off before she can say anything and she's left in dull light listening to dead silence.
If she scurries upstairs quicker than usual she can tell herself it's 'cause her feet are cold. And once she's there she breathes out again, sticks her chin out as she catches her reflection's eye.
You could've just made a big mistake, it tells her. I mean, come on. Who's really going to make it to the top? And Sam wouldn't hesitate to drop you if there was something in it for him.
Tallulah rolls her eyes and puts the wireless on. So maybe she's a bit cracked. But like she said, most of Sam's stuff isn't quite perfect.
[Title] Pairings
[Fandom] Jet Set Radio/Jet Set Radio Future
[Rating] PG
[Notes/summary] JSR!Gum and JSRF!Gum talk about boys, girls, and staying chill. Mentions of various pairings.
The sky is dark, but Benten is a cloud of light on the horizon and over in Kogane there's a few pale stripes of cloud from the last of the sunset.
Gum lies on her back on the roof and breathes out and some of the stomach-aching tension from meeting your... future self, or grown-up granddaughter, or parallel universe double, or whoever this girl is, some of that tension starts to fade. It's been a few days, and no one's laughing at her for not being as hot or as cool as her twin, and said twin seems maybe just as weirded out as her, for all she's trying to hide it.
“Beat and I made out a few times,” she says, letting the words float up to the sky. “But it... got weird.”
“Huh. Not surprised -”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“He's kind of a dork, is all,” other-Gum says. “Awkward. Shy. Fumbling...”
Gum wants to argue, but it's kind of true. She shrugs.
“Me and mine have more of a friends-with-benefits arrangement,” other her says. “Know there won't be any sappiness involved, you know? Okay... Garam.”
Gum shakes her head. “Wouldn't say no, though.” She feels herself blush a little. Her double laughs: “He does have the best abs. I mean, by far.”
“You?”
“Yeah, a couple'a times. We knew each other from before, so I figured why not? He's kind of a jerk but... not a bad jerk, just mouthy with it. And cute, so yeah.”
A car in the distance, speeding music. Gum stretches out her legs and says, “Slate? No, wait, yours is Soda, isn't he?”
“Uh-huh. And nope. He likes to pretend he's not into anything so mainstream as making out. And I mean, who knows what he's got under that collar? He could have a soul patch or something. Uh-uh.”
“Yeah, me neither. He just... keeps himself to himself.”
“Combo?”
“No,” Gum says. “I'd never – I'd feel like I was pinching him off of Cube. I mean I dunno if they are... or if they were... but... some people are just... you feel like they got a load of other stuff before they knew you and it...” She's talking too much. She makes herself stop, say, “You?”
“Yup. Just a few hook-ups, but – hey, I say just, it was amazing. I love a guy who can literally pick me up with one hand.” A snicker. “'Course, our Cube's a little bit more of a headcase than yours. Speaking of which?”
“What, you're asking if I... with Cube?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“No! No, I mean I... I mean it's not like...” Oh god she was definitely blushing now. “I mean I'm not... I just...”
“Woah, woah, chill out. Sorry, I kind of assumed you'd be at least a little bi-curious.”
Gum was most definitely not about to acknowledge any curious she may have had about Cube. “Let's just... keep it to dudes only, okay? Uh – you said it's Corn, not Tab, for you, right?”
“Yup. And nope. It's one of those like-a-sister things, it'd be weird. Bleugh. What about you? A beanie hat do it for you?”
“I... I dunno. We've been friends all our lives, it...” She's so not about to say to this oh-so-confident version of herself that she sometimes thinks it might be comfortable, might be nice, if she and Tab managed to... well. Yeah. “If it went to hell, it'd really suck.”
“Meh... I find mostly if you stay chill, things don't go that south. You can just do it, and if it sucks, stop doing it.”
“Yeah, well, you're clearly way better at chill than me all round, aren't you?”
She expected another snarky answer, but her double just said, “Maybe I just fake it more. Maybe you just don't hide it.”
“Which is better?”
“Hell if I know. Well, if the girls are off-limits, then...” A smile in her voice. “Yo-Yo?”
Gum snorts. “I'd feel like such a cradle-snatcher. Give him a few years, let him get tall enough, then we'll talk.”
“Right,” her twin says. “Same here really. Ours is cute, but he's such a kid. I think he's scared of me, to be honest. Or mesmerised by my amazing rack. Could always be that.”
“Well, you do kind of show it off,” Gum says, but she figures she's just stating a fact and her double only answers, “Damn straight. If you've got it, blah blah.”
“Speak for yourself.”
Other-Gum laughs, and Gum looks round to see her sit up, pull her knees to her chest. “Hey, it's distracted the cops at a crucial moment on more'n one occasion. Right - I'm going inside, I swear to god your version of Tokyo's colder than ours.”
She scrambles over to the skylight. Just as she reaches it, she looks back, smirking, and says, “Oh, and by the way – Cube, yes, Rhyth, yes, Boogie, yes, Jazz, no. And Clutch yes, but you don't have one of him. Which is a shame for you, because he's amazing -”
“Okay, this conversation is over,” Gum says, putting her hands over her ears, but she's kind of laughing as well. She wouldn't tell anyone – particularly not her other self – that seeing, let's say, possibilities reflected like this is sort of cool. Sort of interesting, at least. As other-Gum slides through the skylight, she lies back on the roof and studies the sky again.
