Kinks: Violence, angst, voice Characters: Lonesome Drifter, F!Lone Wanderer, Mister Burke Relationships: Het (F!Lone Wanderer/Mister Burke) Summary: The Lonesome Drifter sings a song of love and murder in the Capital Wasteland.
"Sing me a song," she said. He didn't know the woman except as a presence at the bar, just another blonde in a casino full of fancy girls. There had been several in the audience during his performance, but this was the first to approach him afterwards; his minor brush with celebrity wasn't quite enough for women who could have their pick of Chairmen. The Lonesome Drifter put down his glass of whisky and gave the strange woman a smile.
"Seems to me I gave you more than one song this evening."
She waved at him dismissively.
"A better song. All those numbers were so sad, and without much in them to be sad about!" She placed her hand on his leg, and he made no attempt to remove it. "Why don't you try harder and really break my heart?"
You met girls like this sometimes as a singer. Girls who come on strong when it isn't really you they want but your music. They leave you once they realize you're more than just a sweet voice; a man with fears and weaknesses and boring habits, who thinks about things besides romance. Girls who end up breaking both your hearts.
At least this one said what she wanted up front.
"I know a few murder ballads, if that's what you want. Old stuff, about highwaymen and jilted lovers."
"Nothing old! I've heard them all before. Can't you sing me something new?"
The Lonesome Drifter cocked his head, wondering how much the woman had been drinking. Maybe she was always this demanding, drunk or sober. If he ever made it big, he would have no time for girls like her, nor would he sing at all when he wasn't being paid.
But for now, he was still small time. He leaned in close to the strange woman, and softly- quieter than the music piped through the bar, forcing the woman to lean in as well- he began to sing.
"Oh wandering maiden, won't you sit by my side? Such a lovely creature should not have to roam. I'll give you a mission, and if you agree, My love will be yours and my fortress your home.
Oh wandering maiden, this town has grown old No hope for its people except that they die Your pay will be handsome, the wasteland renewed If you start a blaze and leave no one alive..."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
Ballad of the Wandering Maiden 1/?
Date: 2011-12-31 09:21 am (UTC)Characters: Lonesome Drifter, F!Lone Wanderer, Mister Burke
Relationships: Het (F!Lone Wanderer/Mister Burke)
Summary: The Lonesome Drifter sings a song of love and murder in the Capital Wasteland.
"Sing me a song," she said. He didn't know the woman except as a presence at the bar, just another blonde in a casino full of fancy girls. There had been several in the audience during his performance, but this was the first to approach him afterwards; his minor brush with celebrity wasn't quite enough for women who could have their pick of Chairmen. The Lonesome Drifter put down his glass of whisky and gave the strange woman a smile.
"Seems to me I gave you more than one song this evening."
She waved at him dismissively.
"A better song. All those numbers were so sad, and without much in them to be sad about!" She placed her hand on his leg, and he made no attempt to remove it. "Why don't you try harder and really break my heart?"
You met girls like this sometimes as a singer. Girls who come on strong when it isn't really you they want but your music. They leave you once they realize you're more than just a sweet voice; a man with fears and weaknesses and boring habits, who thinks about things besides romance. Girls who end up breaking both your hearts.
At least this one said what she wanted up front.
"I know a few murder ballads, if that's what you want. Old stuff, about highwaymen and jilted lovers."
"Nothing old! I've heard them all before. Can't you sing me something new?"
The Lonesome Drifter cocked his head, wondering how much the woman had been drinking. Maybe she was always this demanding, drunk or sober. If he ever made it big, he would have no time for girls like her, nor would he sing at all when he wasn't being paid.
But for now, he was still small time. He leaned in close to the strange woman, and softly- quieter than the music piped through the bar, forcing the woman to lean in as well- he began to sing.
"Oh wandering maiden, won't you sit by my side?
Such a lovely creature should not have to roam.
I'll give you a mission, and if you agree,
My love will be yours and my fortress your home.
Oh wandering maiden, this town has grown old
No hope for its people except that they die
Your pay will be handsome, the wasteland renewed
If you start a blaze and leave no one alive..."