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fandomweekly2020-06-15 06:59 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in fandomweekly2020-06-15 06:59 pm
Entry tags:
[#055] And We Sang Dirges in the Dark (Original)
Theme Prompt: #055 – Written on the Wall
Title: And We Sang Dirges in the Dark
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 627
Summary: Mac and Dennings take a breather as the guard closes in.
“I’ll be honest, Mac. I’m not sure how we’re going to get out of this one.”
The entire bar – or what remained of the bar – rocked as another airstrike came in from above. It isn’t right on top of them, thankfully, but it’s getting closer, and it won’t be long until it is. Dennings drops herself onto one of the bar stools, letting her weapon rest safely against the side of the bar, while Mac rustles behind it, pulling out three shot glasses and placing them on top of the wooden surface.
“You’ve said that many times before, Dennings. I’m not sure what makes this one any different.”
She raises an eyebrow back at him, before glancing over her shoulder at the scene of disrepair around them. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the general state of shit of everything right now? The fact that those air raids are getting closer and that platoon we’ve been trying to stay ahead of has to be no more than ten clicks out by now.”
“Oh, is that all?” Mac smirks, before retrieving an abandoned bottle of whiskey and holding it up to inspect. He blows a layer of dust off the label and squints. “2012. Great year.”
“Mac.”
“Look, if you’re so convinced, we’re going to die, I’m not going to die sober.” He twists the cap on the bottle, slowly unscrewing it and starting just short of opening when another raid strike rocks through the building. Glass from the shot glasses clinks against each other and the wooden surface before settling again.
Mac waits briefly, to make sure that they aren’t about to be interrupted again, before splashing the whiskey across all three glasses. Once full, he sets one to the side, before handing one off to Dennings. He then raises his glass to the ceiling. “To Perrin. Good guy, great gunner. Keep the beers cold for the rest of us.”
“To Perrin.” Dennings nods, clinking her glass against his before knocking it back, wincing at the burn. “Damn. 2012 was a good year.” The shot glass returns to the bar, and she gestures for him to pour her another one. He raises an eyebrow at her, and she smirks. “What? You have a point about dying sober.”
He laughs before pouring her another one, and she takes a moment to take in the room around her before knocking it back again. The building hasn’t adequately been used in months, at least. The propaganda alternates with derisive graffiti and some stains that look like they could be blood. The guard had been here recently. They need to keep moving.
She signals one last shot for her empty glass, before reaching down for her weapon again. The ground begins to echo the tell-tale rumble of armored vehicles getting closer. Mac knocks back his final shot, before cocking his machine gun with ease.
A blinding spotlight floats through the windows, followed by an amplified voice: “We have you surrounded. Surrender peacefully, and you may receive mercy from the court.”
“You know, this isn’t a bad place to have a final stand.”
“You think?” She raises an eyebrow curiously. “I guess it is pretty on-brand.”
Mac nods, before moving around the bar to stand next to her. “What do you think? We take down as many of these assholes as they can before they get us?”
Dennings cocks her weapon before nodding. “I think that sounds like a great plan.”
The booted feet of the militia get closer, and she aims, ready to begin shooting as soon as they breach. “For what it’s worth, Mac? It’s been a pleasure serving with you.”
“Right back at you, Dennings.”
As the doors blow open, she can’t help but smile as all hell breaks loose.
Title: And We Sang Dirges in the Dark
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 627
Summary: Mac and Dennings take a breather as the guard closes in.
“I’ll be honest, Mac. I’m not sure how we’re going to get out of this one.”
The entire bar – or what remained of the bar – rocked as another airstrike came in from above. It isn’t right on top of them, thankfully, but it’s getting closer, and it won’t be long until it is. Dennings drops herself onto one of the bar stools, letting her weapon rest safely against the side of the bar, while Mac rustles behind it, pulling out three shot glasses and placing them on top of the wooden surface.
“You’ve said that many times before, Dennings. I’m not sure what makes this one any different.”
She raises an eyebrow back at him, before glancing over her shoulder at the scene of disrepair around them. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the general state of shit of everything right now? The fact that those air raids are getting closer and that platoon we’ve been trying to stay ahead of has to be no more than ten clicks out by now.”
“Oh, is that all?” Mac smirks, before retrieving an abandoned bottle of whiskey and holding it up to inspect. He blows a layer of dust off the label and squints. “2012. Great year.”
“Mac.”
“Look, if you’re so convinced, we’re going to die, I’m not going to die sober.” He twists the cap on the bottle, slowly unscrewing it and starting just short of opening when another raid strike rocks through the building. Glass from the shot glasses clinks against each other and the wooden surface before settling again.
Mac waits briefly, to make sure that they aren’t about to be interrupted again, before splashing the whiskey across all three glasses. Once full, he sets one to the side, before handing one off to Dennings. He then raises his glass to the ceiling. “To Perrin. Good guy, great gunner. Keep the beers cold for the rest of us.”
“To Perrin.” Dennings nods, clinking her glass against his before knocking it back, wincing at the burn. “Damn. 2012 was a good year.” The shot glass returns to the bar, and she gestures for him to pour her another one. He raises an eyebrow at her, and she smirks. “What? You have a point about dying sober.”
He laughs before pouring her another one, and she takes a moment to take in the room around her before knocking it back again. The building hasn’t adequately been used in months, at least. The propaganda alternates with derisive graffiti and some stains that look like they could be blood. The guard had been here recently. They need to keep moving.
She signals one last shot for her empty glass, before reaching down for her weapon again. The ground begins to echo the tell-tale rumble of armored vehicles getting closer. Mac knocks back his final shot, before cocking his machine gun with ease.
A blinding spotlight floats through the windows, followed by an amplified voice: “We have you surrounded. Surrender peacefully, and you may receive mercy from the court.”
“You know, this isn’t a bad place to have a final stand.”
“You think?” She raises an eyebrow curiously. “I guess it is pretty on-brand.”
Mac nods, before moving around the bar to stand next to her. “What do you think? We take down as many of these assholes as they can before they get us?”
Dennings cocks her weapon before nodding. “I think that sounds like a great plan.”
The booted feet of the militia get closer, and she aims, ready to begin shooting as soon as they breach. “For what it’s worth, Mac? It’s been a pleasure serving with you.”
“Right back at you, Dennings.”
As the doors blow open, she can’t help but smile as all hell breaks loose.
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Thanks for reading. =D