odes and other miscellany
Jun. 18th, 2006 10:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
It's a beautiful Sunday morning, and I have coffee and yogurt and an internet connection. What could be better? *grins* I also come bearing a Highlander double drabble titled Easeful Death (Methos, gen):
Methos dies.
He dies of a blow to the head, falling in the dirt. He dies of starvation, his skin stretching until there is no more. He dies of a sword thrust through his abdomen by Kronos, in whatever game they’re playing that moon. Methos dies of alcohol poisoning in Rome; he dies of thirst in the desert. A little bit of Methos dies every time he takes a head, losing space to someone else’s Quickening. He dies in a battle when a horse falls on him. He dies on his farm, caught outside in a storm. Methos dies, slowly and painfully, as the Plague devours his Immortal immunity. All of his family has gone before him, and unlike Methos, they will not return. He dies by drowning in the Thames on purpose to escape an enemy, and when his heart restarts, he coughs up river water.
By the time Methos meets Byron, he is more than done with dying. He doctors, he writes, he avoids fights. He craves passion, but he craves life more. When he reads Keats’s poem confessing that "for many a time/I have been half in love with easeful Death", he laughs and laughs and laughs.
Methos dies.
He dies of a blow to the head, falling in the dirt. He dies of starvation, his skin stretching until there is no more. He dies of a sword thrust through his abdomen by Kronos, in whatever game they’re playing that moon. Methos dies of alcohol poisoning in Rome; he dies of thirst in the desert. A little bit of Methos dies every time he takes a head, losing space to someone else’s Quickening. He dies in a battle when a horse falls on him. He dies on his farm, caught outside in a storm. Methos dies, slowly and painfully, as the Plague devours his Immortal immunity. All of his family has gone before him, and unlike Methos, they will not return. He dies by drowning in the Thames on purpose to escape an enemy, and when his heart restarts, he coughs up river water.
By the time Methos meets Byron, he is more than done with dying. He doctors, he writes, he avoids fights. He craves passion, but he craves life more. When he reads Keats’s poem confessing that "for many a time/I have been half in love with easeful Death", he laughs and laughs and laughs.
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Date: 2006-06-18 03:09 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing!
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Date: 2006-06-18 06:58 pm (UTC)I particularly like what you've done with your sentence structure here. You use just the right amount of similar structures to drive home the repetitive nature of death, and then switch it up to keep the reader guessing.
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Date: 2006-06-19 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-06-18 08:58 pm (UTC)Oooh, very nice! "He craves passion, but he craves life more" might explain the way he is attracted to passionate people yet stays just on their periphery.
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Date: 2006-06-19 10:05 pm (UTC)Oh, that's a good way to describe him! And thanks muchly - I'm glad you liked the drabble. Dying that many times (and coming back) must do *something* to your psyche.
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