Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2006-07-13 12:04 am
ptahrrific) wrote2006-07-13 12:04 am
Entry tags:
Good Omens/Sandman: "Motorcycle Riding"
Title: Motorcycle Riding
Fandom: Good Omens, Sandman, with Incarnations of Immortality reference thrown in for good measure
Genre: Comedy, gen
Words: ~300
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Good Omens is the creation of Terry Prachett and Neil Gaiman; Sandman is the creation of Neil Gaiman; Incarnations of Immortality is by Piers Anthony. Characters used without permission - but with love (and, more importantly from a legal standpoint, without profit).
Notes: I went through months of the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lower_tadfield fic archives, and while the Bentley was all over the place and Dick Turpin wasn't unheard of, a third prominent vehicle - Phaeton the bike - was barely mentioned. And then I had an idea, so I ran with it.
Good Omens and Sandman cross over very well, as others have noted before me.
Motorcycle Riding
Phaeton was dreaming.
In the real world, Phaeton was a bicycle. An improbably shiny one, with a pump, lights, and what it felt were very stylish tartan straps; but a bicycle nonetheless. In its dreams, though, it was a motorcycle.1
In this particular dream Phaeton was cruising down an open highway, blacktop flying past beneath its wheels. Its rider gripped the handlebars inexpertly, but Phaeton ignored his clumsy attempts to steer. It knew where it wanted to go.
The rider gave up trying to control the bike, but he insisted on switching on its headlight as the dusk in the dream-landscape deepened. Phaeton would have preferred to drive in the dark, its black frame all but invisible except for flashes of moonlight on chrome. The rider would rather not be driving at all.
The rider was not used to motorcycles, and the deepening dusk made him nervous. But they sped along, and the wind blew through his hair, and it didn't feel so bad. He started to relax.
Then they turned a corner, and he found himself staring at a sea of taillights.
The rider closed his eyes, hunkered down over the handlebars, and considered praying.
1Wanted to be, wanted to be; in its heart it was a motorcycle, it was only its construction that's letting it down. (This may explain why Anathema likes Phaeton so much.)
---
DID YOU ENJOY YOUR RIDE? asked Death, pulling up on a pale motorcycle and parking it next to the sitting figure.
"Not in the least," replied Dream darkly. "I'll never understand what you see in those things. And take off that helmet; it looks ridiculous."
OH, LIKE YOURS DOESN'T, said Death, miffed; but she pulled off her helmet and shook out her long black hair. "Better?"
"Much."
Death grimaced. "You just need some lessons, little brother. I'll let you take Mortis out for a spin." She patted the pale handlebars. "It's very well-behaved."
The engine hummed. Dream shuddered. "Some other time."
Fandom: Good Omens, Sandman, with Incarnations of Immortality reference thrown in for good measure
Genre: Comedy, gen
Words: ~300
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Good Omens is the creation of Terry Prachett and Neil Gaiman; Sandman is the creation of Neil Gaiman; Incarnations of Immortality is by Piers Anthony. Characters used without permission - but with love (and, more importantly from a legal standpoint, without profit).
Notes: I went through months of the
lower_tadfield fic archives, and while the Bentley was all over the place and Dick Turpin wasn't unheard of, a third prominent vehicle - Phaeton the bike - was barely mentioned. And then I had an idea, so I ran with it.Good Omens and Sandman cross over very well, as others have noted before me.
Motorcycle Riding
Phaeton was dreaming.
In the real world, Phaeton was a bicycle. An improbably shiny one, with a pump, lights, and what it felt were very stylish tartan straps; but a bicycle nonetheless. In its dreams, though, it was a motorcycle.1
In this particular dream Phaeton was cruising down an open highway, blacktop flying past beneath its wheels. Its rider gripped the handlebars inexpertly, but Phaeton ignored his clumsy attempts to steer. It knew where it wanted to go.
The rider gave up trying to control the bike, but he insisted on switching on its headlight as the dusk in the dream-landscape deepened. Phaeton would have preferred to drive in the dark, its black frame all but invisible except for flashes of moonlight on chrome. The rider would rather not be driving at all.
The rider was not used to motorcycles, and the deepening dusk made him nervous. But they sped along, and the wind blew through his hair, and it didn't feel so bad. He started to relax.
Then they turned a corner, and he found himself staring at a sea of taillights.
The rider closed his eyes, hunkered down over the handlebars, and considered praying.
1Wanted to be, wanted to be; in its heart it was a motorcycle, it was only its construction that's letting it down. (This may explain why Anathema likes Phaeton so much.)
---
DID YOU ENJOY YOUR RIDE? asked Death, pulling up on a pale motorcycle and parking it next to the sitting figure.
"Not in the least," replied Dream darkly. "I'll never understand what you see in those things. And take off that helmet; it looks ridiculous."
OH, LIKE YOURS DOESN'T, said Death, miffed; but she pulled off her helmet and shook out her long black hair. "Better?"
"Much."
Death grimaced. "You just need some lessons, little brother. I'll let you take Mortis out for a spin." She patted the pale handlebars. "It's very well-behaved."
The engine hummed. Dream shuddered. "Some other time."
no subject
It was unclear where the perspective switched between the bike and Dream. I tried for a second to figure out how the motorcycle/bike had hair. I like the premise a lot and I liked how you managed to get it into such a tiny package.
Yours, JLP
no subject
Fixed the spelling, tweaked the scene, hope that helps. Thank you for pointing them out ^_^
Glad you liked it, too.