![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Sunday Six Sentences
Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.
Original:
"Like you don't know." My face must have registered cleanly enough even for crazy-pants Mr. Richmond to read. "Maybe you don't know. Well, why would they tell you, it's just my brain they're messing with." He stopped pacing and levelled the gun more steadily. "Tell me what they told you."
Fanfic:
“Sing to him,” Eliot suggests.
Sterling stares as if Eliot’s grown an extra head - and then his stare becomes accusing.
“I can’t sing and read lips from eight hundred feet,” Eliot says.
There’s a long, long pause and then this sound comes out of Sterling’s mouth.
Eliot doesn’t tear his gaze from their Marks, but he is appallingly distracted. “Is that- are you singing Metallica as a lullaby?”
Original:
"Like you don't know." My face must have registered cleanly enough even for crazy-pants Mr. Richmond to read. "Maybe you don't know. Well, why would they tell you, it's just my brain they're messing with." He stopped pacing and levelled the gun more steadily. "Tell me what they told you."
Fanfic:
“Sing to him,” Eliot suggests.
Sterling stares as if Eliot’s grown an extra head - and then his stare becomes accusing.
“I can’t sing and read lips from eight hundred feet,” Eliot says.
There’s a long, long pause and then this sound comes out of Sterling’s mouth.
Eliot doesn’t tear his gaze from their Marks, but he is appallingly distracted. “Is that- are you singing Metallica as a lullaby?”