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rainbowfic2012-05-26 12:13 am
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2012-05-26 12:13 am
Snow White 9, Ruby 13: Hat Trick
Author: Kat
Title: Hat Trick
Story: Huge Scary New Story
Colors: Snow white 9 (stolen child), ruby 13 (poisoned apple).
Supplies and Materials: Bichromatic (snow white and ruby), canvas, fabric (this picture), modeling clay (champion), feathers (this picture), glitter (crisis), stain (Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye. - Miss Piggy), novelty beads ("I can't believe that you'd believe that I would fake it/Wait - unless you count the things I said when we were naked" -- "Wind It Up" by Barenaked Ladies), pastels (victim).
Word Count: 494.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Miranda can hear her sister crying.
Warnings: discussion of underage people having sex (fourteen and sixteen, but not with each other), violence, discussion of statutory rape.
Notes: I've been reading this book called "If It's Purple, Someone's Going To Die." And, well, someone is.
The three Hennessy children shared a floor of their house, when they were all home, the top floor with the view of the ocean. Miranda had disliked the arrangement when she was a girl. Her younger siblings had had fairly easy access to her bedroom, and Jackson at least had had a terrible habit of listening at doors and sneaking peeks at diaries. She'd felt that she had no privacy.
Now that she'd experienced dormitory living, coming home was a blessed relief. Jackson was old enough now to at least knock before barging in, and Charlotte kept to herself, and if either of them was having sex (she hoped not; Jackson was only fourteen, and Charlotte was unusually shy and sensitive) the walls were at least thick enough that she didn't hear it.
Which meant that, if she could hear Charlotte crying from her room by the stairs, something was very wrong.
Miranda abandoned her evening preparations and went out into the hall in her favorite tight purple dress, makeup half-done, feet bare, hair loose around her shoulders. A moment later, Jackson came out in pajama bottoms-- only pajama bottoms, God help them all, and mussed dark hair.
"Andy," he greeted her, his eyes lighting briefly with brotherly mischief. "Hope you're not going out like that. You look like a hot mess."
Miranda ignored him. "Is that Charlotte?" she demanded. "What's wrong?"
His face reverted to worry, and he bit his lip. "I don't know. Her boyfriend, maybe..." Abruptly, he shut his mouth and flushed.
Miranda narrowed her eyes at him. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I promised Charlotte," he said.
Miranda narrowed her eyes further, as another muffled sob crept out under Charlotte's door. Jack winced, and caved. "She's dating Andrew Dalton."
"Andrew?" Miranda demanded. "As in my ex-boyfriend Andrew? What the hell is she doing with that snake?"
Jack bit his lip. "She said he was nice," he said. "She said he treated her well. What was I supposed to do, Andy, stop her?"
"Yes," Miranda said, through her teeth. Poor Charlotte. She'd gone through hell with Andrew, and she was so much stronger than her little sister, so much more powerful. "We are going to have words when we're through comforting her, Jackson."
"Whatever," Jack said, and rolled his eyes. "Charlotte's sixteen, you know, she can make her own decisions."
Not when they concerned an eighteen-year-old boy who by rights should be at college. But no, Andrew was precious and wanted to take a year off. So he could prey on sixteen-year-old girls, apparently. Miranda crossed her arms. "Are you going to help calm her down, or what?"
Jack rolled his eyes again, but disappeared into his room and came out a moment later pulling a sweater over his head. Whatever he might think privately, he was a good brother. And Charlotte was... she was softer than the both of them. More easily hurt.
They both knew that.
Miranda knocked softly on Charlotte's door. "Charlie?" she asked, softly. "Can we come in?"
There was a silent moment, then a muted, "Okay."
She exchanged glances with Jack, then opened the door and slipped inside, Jack so close behind her she could feel his breath on her neck.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. All the lights were off, except for the purple-glass nightlight low on the wall, a soft hazy light like twilight. Charlotte was curled up on her canopy bed, around her big purple pillow, her face buried in its fabric.
"Charlotte?" Jack said, sounding alarmed. He pushed past Miranda and sat beside their sister on the bed, rubbing her back. "Charlotte, what is it?"
Miranda followed him and sat down on Charlotte's other side, stroking her soft dark hair. "What is it?" she asked, quietly. "Is it Andrew?"
Charlotte nodded, without looking up. Miranda's free hand clenched into a fist, and she felt more than saw Jack wince again. "Did he do something to my big sister?" he asked, his voice showing nothing of the distress she knew he felt.
"He dumped me," Charlotte whispered, into her pillow. "He... he..." She choked on a sob, pressed her face tighter into the fabric.
"What did he do?" Miranda asked, keeping her voice as soft and soothing as she could.
Charlotte mumbled something Miranda didn't catch, but Jack sat bolt upright. "What?"
Miranda looked sharply at him, at his eyes glittering in the low light and the sudden tense line of his jaw. "What is it, Charlie?" she asked, without taking her eyes off Jack.
Charlotte turned her head and shifted it into Miranda's lap, wrapping her arms around her sister's waist. "He said he didn't need me anymore," she said, her voice still clouded with tears. "He said... he said he had the hat trick now. He said he'd never have... if it wasn't... He said I was ugly."
Miranda didn't need to ask what more he'd said.
The fucking Hennessy hat trick. It wasn't the first time she'd heard of it, though the first time it had been a joke-- well, she fucking hoped it was a joke, since Jack had been eleven at the time. She didn't know what the hell kind of person took it seriously, because it wasn't like you got a prize, but some people still tried it, like they didn't talk to each other, didn't compare notes on who they dated.
Hat trick... she looked sharply at Jack. "When did you..."
He shrugged. "So maybe I blew him at a party."
Miranda felt ill. "You are fourteen, Jackson!"
"Gives you one more weapon," he said, his face sober, ignoring her perfectly legitimate grievance. "Statutory rape, both me and Charlie."
In her lap, Charlotte jerked. "I never said..."
"You didn't have to," Miranda told her, controlling her voice with iron will. Soft and gentle with Charlotte, because all she'd done was fall for honeyed words, and she was sixteen, how was she supposed to know better? The rage burning under her breastbone was not for her sister. "Sweetheart, he did the same thing to me. You didn't need to say it."
Charlotte was silent for a moment, her face tight against Miranda's stomach. "Don't tell anyone," she said, at last, her voice tiny. "Please. Please don't tell anyone."
"I won't," Miranda said, almost crooned. "I won't."
Jackson ran his hands through Charlotte's hair, scratching gently at her scalp. "I won't either, Charlie," he said, his voice warm with affection. "It stays between us. Use me, Miranda. Statutory rape. He went to our school. Fuck, he dated you, he knows I'm underage."
"Did he use a condom?" Miranda asked, uncertain if she was asking Charlotte or Jackson. Not that it mattered, because Jack was the one who answered.
"Of course," he said, indignantly, as if she'd just asked if he had a brain. "Do you think I'm a fucking moron, Andy?"
Against her stomach, Charlotte nodded, which was a relief, because if Andrew had talked her into bareback she was going to murder Jackson. As it was, she'd just have to impress upon him the importance of thinking before speaking.
But that was for later. Now, her midsection was growing damp. She went back to stroking Charlotte's hair and back, soothing little moments, soft and sure. "It's not your fault," she murmured. "It isn't your fault, Charlie. You're beautiful, and I love you. We love you. It's not your fault."
Charlotte mewled softly, and curled around Miranda entirely, her tears shaking her body.
They stayed with her. Jackson rubbed her back, sang silly songs and told stories to make her smile or just pass the time. Charlotte wept, quietly, and settled eventually into sleep.
And Miranda kept on combing her fingers through her sister's hair, soft and gentle, like petting a kitten, while rage bubbled and built inside her.
This was her little sister.
Forget statutory rape. Andrew Dalton was going to die.
Title: Hat Trick
Story: Huge Scary New Story
Colors: Snow white 9 (stolen child), ruby 13 (poisoned apple).
Supplies and Materials: Bichromatic (snow white and ruby), canvas, fabric (this picture), modeling clay (champion), feathers (this picture), glitter (crisis), stain (Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye. - Miss Piggy), novelty beads ("I can't believe that you'd believe that I would fake it/Wait - unless you count the things I said when we were naked" -- "Wind It Up" by Barenaked Ladies), pastels (victim).
Word Count: 494.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Miranda can hear her sister crying.
Warnings: discussion of underage people having sex (fourteen and sixteen, but not with each other), violence, discussion of statutory rape.
Notes: I've been reading this book called "If It's Purple, Someone's Going To Die." And, well, someone is.
The three Hennessy children shared a floor of their house, when they were all home, the top floor with the view of the ocean. Miranda had disliked the arrangement when she was a girl. Her younger siblings had had fairly easy access to her bedroom, and Jackson at least had had a terrible habit of listening at doors and sneaking peeks at diaries. She'd felt that she had no privacy.
Now that she'd experienced dormitory living, coming home was a blessed relief. Jackson was old enough now to at least knock before barging in, and Charlotte kept to herself, and if either of them was having sex (she hoped not; Jackson was only fourteen, and Charlotte was unusually shy and sensitive) the walls were at least thick enough that she didn't hear it.
Which meant that, if she could hear Charlotte crying from her room by the stairs, something was very wrong.
Miranda abandoned her evening preparations and went out into the hall in her favorite tight purple dress, makeup half-done, feet bare, hair loose around her shoulders. A moment later, Jackson came out in pajama bottoms-- only pajama bottoms, God help them all, and mussed dark hair.
"Andy," he greeted her, his eyes lighting briefly with brotherly mischief. "Hope you're not going out like that. You look like a hot mess."
Miranda ignored him. "Is that Charlotte?" she demanded. "What's wrong?"
His face reverted to worry, and he bit his lip. "I don't know. Her boyfriend, maybe..." Abruptly, he shut his mouth and flushed.
Miranda narrowed her eyes at him. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I promised Charlotte," he said.
Miranda narrowed her eyes further, as another muffled sob crept out under Charlotte's door. Jack winced, and caved. "She's dating Andrew Dalton."
"Andrew?" Miranda demanded. "As in my ex-boyfriend Andrew? What the hell is she doing with that snake?"
Jack bit his lip. "She said he was nice," he said. "She said he treated her well. What was I supposed to do, Andy, stop her?"
"Yes," Miranda said, through her teeth. Poor Charlotte. She'd gone through hell with Andrew, and she was so much stronger than her little sister, so much more powerful. "We are going to have words when we're through comforting her, Jackson."
"Whatever," Jack said, and rolled his eyes. "Charlotte's sixteen, you know, she can make her own decisions."
Not when they concerned an eighteen-year-old boy who by rights should be at college. But no, Andrew was precious and wanted to take a year off. So he could prey on sixteen-year-old girls, apparently. Miranda crossed her arms. "Are you going to help calm her down, or what?"
Jack rolled his eyes again, but disappeared into his room and came out a moment later pulling a sweater over his head. Whatever he might think privately, he was a good brother. And Charlotte was... she was softer than the both of them. More easily hurt.
They both knew that.
Miranda knocked softly on Charlotte's door. "Charlie?" she asked, softly. "Can we come in?"
There was a silent moment, then a muted, "Okay."
She exchanged glances with Jack, then opened the door and slipped inside, Jack so close behind her she could feel his breath on her neck.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. All the lights were off, except for the purple-glass nightlight low on the wall, a soft hazy light like twilight. Charlotte was curled up on her canopy bed, around her big purple pillow, her face buried in its fabric.
"Charlotte?" Jack said, sounding alarmed. He pushed past Miranda and sat beside their sister on the bed, rubbing her back. "Charlotte, what is it?"
Miranda followed him and sat down on Charlotte's other side, stroking her soft dark hair. "What is it?" she asked, quietly. "Is it Andrew?"
Charlotte nodded, without looking up. Miranda's free hand clenched into a fist, and she felt more than saw Jack wince again. "Did he do something to my big sister?" he asked, his voice showing nothing of the distress she knew he felt.
"He dumped me," Charlotte whispered, into her pillow. "He... he..." She choked on a sob, pressed her face tighter into the fabric.
"What did he do?" Miranda asked, keeping her voice as soft and soothing as she could.
Charlotte mumbled something Miranda didn't catch, but Jack sat bolt upright. "What?"
Miranda looked sharply at him, at his eyes glittering in the low light and the sudden tense line of his jaw. "What is it, Charlie?" she asked, without taking her eyes off Jack.
Charlotte turned her head and shifted it into Miranda's lap, wrapping her arms around her sister's waist. "He said he didn't need me anymore," she said, her voice still clouded with tears. "He said... he said he had the hat trick now. He said he'd never have... if it wasn't... He said I was ugly."
Miranda didn't need to ask what more he'd said.
The fucking Hennessy hat trick. It wasn't the first time she'd heard of it, though the first time it had been a joke-- well, she fucking hoped it was a joke, since Jack had been eleven at the time. She didn't know what the hell kind of person took it seriously, because it wasn't like you got a prize, but some people still tried it, like they didn't talk to each other, didn't compare notes on who they dated.
Hat trick... she looked sharply at Jack. "When did you..."
He shrugged. "So maybe I blew him at a party."
Miranda felt ill. "You are fourteen, Jackson!"
"Gives you one more weapon," he said, his face sober, ignoring her perfectly legitimate grievance. "Statutory rape, both me and Charlie."
In her lap, Charlotte jerked. "I never said..."
"You didn't have to," Miranda told her, controlling her voice with iron will. Soft and gentle with Charlotte, because all she'd done was fall for honeyed words, and she was sixteen, how was she supposed to know better? The rage burning under her breastbone was not for her sister. "Sweetheart, he did the same thing to me. You didn't need to say it."
Charlotte was silent for a moment, her face tight against Miranda's stomach. "Don't tell anyone," she said, at last, her voice tiny. "Please. Please don't tell anyone."
"I won't," Miranda said, almost crooned. "I won't."
Jackson ran his hands through Charlotte's hair, scratching gently at her scalp. "I won't either, Charlie," he said, his voice warm with affection. "It stays between us. Use me, Miranda. Statutory rape. He went to our school. Fuck, he dated you, he knows I'm underage."
"Did he use a condom?" Miranda asked, uncertain if she was asking Charlotte or Jackson. Not that it mattered, because Jack was the one who answered.
"Of course," he said, indignantly, as if she'd just asked if he had a brain. "Do you think I'm a fucking moron, Andy?"
Against her stomach, Charlotte nodded, which was a relief, because if Andrew had talked her into bareback she was going to murder Jackson. As it was, she'd just have to impress upon him the importance of thinking before speaking.
But that was for later. Now, her midsection was growing damp. She went back to stroking Charlotte's hair and back, soothing little moments, soft and sure. "It's not your fault," she murmured. "It isn't your fault, Charlie. You're beautiful, and I love you. We love you. It's not your fault."
Charlotte mewled softly, and curled around Miranda entirely, her tears shaking her body.
They stayed with her. Jackson rubbed her back, sang silly songs and told stories to make her smile or just pass the time. Charlotte wept, quietly, and settled eventually into sleep.
And Miranda kept on combing her fingers through her sister's hair, soft and gentle, like petting a kitten, while rage bubbled and built inside her.
This was her little sister.
Forget statutory rape. Andrew Dalton was going to die.
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Also I want to see what she has in store for Mr. Dalton, now.
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And yes. Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
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Thank you.
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Now that the unsurprising reaction is out of the way: the feel of this is perfect. Been there, done that, and this feels as real as anything I've ever lived through. I love the sibling dynamics, how they push and prod at each other but are still irrevocably protective. And Miranda. Oh, Miranda. There are no words for how much I adore her, and therefore how you write her.
Lovely job. Look forward to seeing where this goes.
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Thank you, so much!
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(seriously, she wants to cut his brake lines. I'm having a hard time talking her out of it.)
Thank you!
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Thank you. And yes. She will. Probably with a hammer.
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http://www.objectsandelements.com/shop/tools-hammers-c-24_25
Easy on the mess, heavy on the ow.
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I may not know much, but I know how to whack somebody /good/ if it comes up.
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Because these three, as much as they love each other.
Surviving their combined wrath is not happening.
I have to tell you though:
"So maybe I blew him at a party.", plus the flouncing around in pajama bottoms. I am loving Jack and his just being himself at this point.
I also like the pet name Andy for Miranda, though it did take me a sec to get that's what it was.
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Thank you!