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I've been feeling rather angsty, in regards to some Bunnymen-related things and otherwise so. Anyway, I don't think this one's very good, but this story still says something about me, so I thought I'd leave it here. prompt belongs to 'all_unwritten'. The first three lines of dialogue are a conversation I'd actually had with someone, who, unlike my feelings about my characters, was not actually worth my time, and the cliché was just a cliché. It may be a part of something longer, but I'm feeling too weak to think about a plot.

Clowns

"You know what they say about clowns…" Will says reflectively.
 
"They wear bad make up?" Ian shrugs heavily, holding his large glass.
 
"Their smiles are painted on." Will provides the oh-so familiar cliché.
 
"Why are you telling *me* this?" Ian cocks his head at Will, thinking he really is way too drunk for a serious conversation now - and where did Will pull that out from anyway?
 
 "I just wanted to know if you're alright I guess, although you seem to be doing good." Will says, and Ian has a flash of realizing that maybe Will used an all too beat up phrase, but he'd actually managed to get the point across rather well, the bastard.
 
Ian chuckles. "Seriously, Will, if you think you're going to get a confession out of me, you are sorely mistaken."
 
"I didn't think so." Will says frankly, and from that point on they haven't spoken to each other that night, Ian leaving with some girl, and Will getting another couple of drinks and then going back home to sleep.

(no subject)

Band-aid (this story is based on what Ian said about meeting Bowie, I'm not bothered to find the link. prompt belongs to all_unwritten. Happier than the last one. :] )

Ian came running, holding his face in his hand. "Do you know where I can find some band aids? Have you got one?" Ian asked, sounding totally shaken, or otherwise excited about something.

"What happened?" Will asked, not helping but thinking there's a story behind the nick on Ian's face and thinking it might be interesting.

"Bowie. I was shaving in front of the mirror, and he came to me, and he started TALKING to me, and I jumped startled, so erm, I cut my face... Oh, Will, he's so gorgeous!"

Will laughs.

"It took an injury to make you laugh, didn't it? Well, at least I made you laugh." Ian grins at Will, with a sense of accomplishment.