WWC: Listen to a song, then write a story and included at least three lines from that song.
#2 of WritingGroupChallenge
WritingGroupChallenge
This Week's Writing Challenge: Listen to a song, and then write a story and included at least three lines from that song.
Song: Rush - Tom Sawer
The 03-K64-Firefly starship was coming in for a landing on the outskirts of Gethar. The town looked like an old western set, complete with boardwalks between buildings on this nearly used up planet. The rim planet had been used hard for its resources during the war and left to rot after the majority of those resources were used up. Still, people were here harvesting what was left of those resources to make credits. Dust and debris flew up and away from the ship as it came in for a landing, its powerful VTOL engines revving up loudly and the ship sat down smoothly on its landing gear.
The front airlock clanked and hissed as the initial air seal was breached from the doors' powerful motors. There stood a massive draft stallion on two legs. All his clothing was custom tailored to fit his massive frame. He wore black nickers that that came down just below his knee. His lower leg fur went from red into white, his fetlocks were long and brushed out. He wore a white tunic with a black and red paisley designed silk vest. His black forelock and mane were tightly braided against his head and neck. The braids helped accent his heavily muscled brown neck, showing it off. The stallion has a single white blaze that went from his pink nose to between his eyes, he wore a soft scowl. His dark brown leather gun belt hung from his hips loosely, his modern blaster on his left thigh in line with his hand, at the ready. The walkway from the air lock touched ground with an audible thump.
A modern-day warrior, mean, mean stride. Though his mind is not for rent, mean, mean pride. Don't put him down as arrogant, the stallions quiet reserve is a defense for riding out today's events. The stallion walked into the one-horse town and made his way to the saloon. He pushed the swinging doors open and quickly made note of all the patrons and staff in the room. Several ladies of the evening were standing around the old piano listening to the musician play. One of the ladies looked up and noticed the big stallion taking up the entire doorway.
The doe gazelle quickly made her way over to the big stallion. She leaned forward and touched his vest and pressed her arms together making her already ample bosom even bigger in her corset.
"So, what are you looking for stranger?" The gazelle smiled and let out a soft giggle.
The big stallion was looking out his other eye noting the mercs playing cards at a table in the corner. One Merc had his hand under the table with a sour look on his face. Two other players were clearly well sauced, another player has a smug look. The doe pressed her hand more firmly against his stomach when he did not immediately respond to her. His blank look turned to a scowl and he let out a deep breath softly. He slightly cocked his head toward her and look at her with his other eye.
"I am not interested in what you're selling." His deep bass voice was soft and flowed out of the large male like silk across smooth skin. What you say about his company, what you say about society. Catch the mystery, catch the drift. The big stallion pushed through her hand as he started for the bar.
"Hey!" The gazelle was insulted that her usual methods didn't work. She quickly turned and touched the back of his arm. He stopped and regarded her over his shoulder one ear on her the other ear on the card game. His scowl deepened.
"Not all things are for sale, but you certainly look like you could use a little company. It must be lonely out in the stars." She tried to melt his icy defense.
"I have a crew." The Clydesdale turned his head back towards the bar but kept an ear on the gazelle. The stallion saw a few patrons at the bar, he looked for a sturdy enough stool and made his way towards it. The wooden floor was moving under the Clydesdale's massive hooves as the boards somehow took his impressive weight. He found his stool and sat down carefully as to not sit on his tail, and to keep his black tail hair from getting tangled. He leaned on the bar and looked at all the liquors on the back shelves, also noting the various drugs that were on display inside a glass case behind the bar.
The tiger barkeep quickly made his way over to the horse and eyed him up and down.
The stallion's expression softened as he looked at the tiger. The world is, the world is. Love and life are deep. Maybe his skies are wide. No, his mind is not for rent. Not to any god or government. He is always hopeful, yet discontent. He knows changes aren't permanent, but change is. And what you say about his company, is what you say about society.
The tiger almost growled the words as he spoke them. "What will it be partner Beer, wine, whiskey, drugs? We have the latest in emotional control, happy, sad, love, lust. Looking to fuck? We have stall..."
The tiger coughed as he lost himself on his usual diatribe of sales. "I suppose you don't need stallion. So, what's your name and what will it be?" The tiger and cocked his head and smiled.
The stallion looked back at the tiger with soft brown eyes and the corner of his mouth rose in a half smile. "Today its Tom Sawyer and I'll get high on you." His expression thoughtful as he stared at the much smaller tiger.
The tiger purred in his chest at the response from the stud. "My shift is over at 10."
The stallion stood up and turned. "My ship is on the north end. Firefly class. You can't miss it."
Maybe his eyes are wide. Exit the warrior. Today's Tom Sawyer. He gets high on you. And the energy you trade. The friction of the day.