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rainbowfic2013-01-06 02:56 am
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2013-01-06 02:56 am
Jade #14, Ivory #1, Snow White #6
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Volunteer
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Jade #14. A distant heart will tend towards like places, Ivory #1. Here I am again in this smoky place with my brandy eyes, Snow White #6. transformation
Supplies and Materials: eraser (In SPACE AU), modeling clay, pastels (my current gen + romance card I2 "management"), chalk, novelty beads ("I wish someone told me..."), glitter ("If we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane." – Jimmy Buffett), glue ("You may be worried that your long-term goals are not very realistic today, but your perspective could be warped by old fears.")
Word Count: 1000
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Nellid, Isshiri
Warnings: Some internalized ableism, references to prejudice against non-humans, references to prejudice against cyborgs, internalized anti-cyborg beliefs, brief description of severe burns, references to amputation, references to heart disease and transplant, reference to transplant rejection, pediatric hospital.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. This takes place in the equivalent of an alternate 976 FY. Nellid is twenty, Isshiri is seven.
Nellid, on weekends while he was in college, volunteered in a Pediatric Fusion specialty clinic. Not the one where he'd gotten his cyborg heart, when his body had rejected the traditional transplant eight years ago, but one like it, in another part of the city.
There were days when he hated it. Kids were only approved for Fusion operations when it was a life-or-death type thing, like his heart. Any kid who was here was dying, unless they sacrificed some fraction of their humanity. Or, more accurately, their parents sacrificed it for them.
Not that he wished he'd died instead of getting his heart, no. Nellid liked living. He liked his classes, he liked his siblings, he liked his parents, he liked his life. He did. He just...wished he'd been able to do it without putting a machine into his body, like he did. Even when it was functioning perfectly, there was that pounding in his ears--you're not a real human anymore. And all software, even the best-designed, glitched sometimes. That had hurt almost more than rejecting the donor heart had. He'd been doing some research, on his own time, about alternatives. But that would have to wait until he was twenty-five and had full control of his trust fund, since Mom would never approve something experimental. Even if Dad felt like Nellid did about his being a cyborg, it would be Mom's voice that won in the end.
Which was why he never went to his Fusion clinic. It hurt enough going to one where the doctors didn't know him. It hurt to see kids, like him, forced to become something less than human.
This clinic, at least, didn't take kids under five. Which helped. A little.
Mostly he talked to the kids. He'd draw with them, or sing silly songs, or read to them. Generally helping them forget, for a little while. Sometimes he helped with the computers--the parts that strangers were allowed to see, at least.
He came in, on a Saturday afternoon, as usual, smiled at the receptionist, and checked the patient list to see if anyone new was in. He had kids he'd gotten pretty close to, over the last two years since he'd started volunteering, but he liked to start with the new ones, so they knew that things got (at least outwardly) better after they left. Even if he wasn't visibly a cyborg, it helped them, at least sometimes.
Just one new kid, a seven-year-old named Isshiri Heidari.
Nellid blinked at the name. There was a Congresswoman his dad worked with sometimes--something Heidari, he couldn't remember her first name off the top of his head, and he thought she had a son that age...
...fuck, I hope not. Last thing anyone here needs is the press descending on top of everything else...
Like they had when he was in the hospital. A Purist Senator's kid becoming a cyborg? Even though Dad was moderate, that was still News.
He headed for Isshiri's room to start.
It was...bad.
The kid had what looked like severe burns over large parts of his body. His right leg was missing from just below his knee, and God only knew what else the doctors were going to have to replace.
"Hey, kid," he said, softly.
Isshiri looked up from toying with his blanket. "...don't know you," he said, uncertainly.
Nellid shook his head and smiled. "No, not yet. My name's Nellid. I help out here sometimes."
"Oh."
"What's your name?"
"Isshiri. My sisters call me 'Sshiri but no one else can."
He nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Isshiri."
The kid shrugged.
"Do you have lots of sisters?" Nellid asked.
Isshiri shook his head. "Just 'Lani and Kira."
Nellid winced internally. Yeah. Congresswoman Heidari's kid. "Those are nice names."
"Uh-huh."
"You know," Nellid said, "I think my daddy works with your mommy."
That got Isshiri to look up again. "Really?"
Nellid smiled again. "Yeah. He talks about her sometimes." And not all of it nice things, but that's nothing to do with you. And I'm sure as hell not going to talk politics with a seven-year-old.
"My mommy doesn't talk about your daddy," Isshiri said, clearly doubting him.
Nellid wrinkled his nose. "I guess she doesn't like him much, then."
Isshiri cracked a smile. "Mommy doesn't like lots of people," he whispered.
"I bet she likes you."
Isshiri shrugged again and looked down. Nellid cursed internally. He got the kid to open up a little, then said the wrong thing. Dammit.
"I've got sisters, too," he tried. "But I've got twice as many as you."
Isshiri frowned. "How many is that?"
Oh, right. Seven was too young for multiplication, unless you got skipped ahead. "Four."
Isshiri considered this. "Are they bigger'n you?"
"Three of them are," Nellid said.
"I bet they're real bossy."
Nellid had to laugh at that. "Why, are your sisters bossy?"
"'Lani is. Really bossy sometimes." Isshiri looked thoroughly annoyed, and Nellid forced himself to stop laughing.
"Do you have brothers, or is it just you and your sisters?"
Isshiri shook his head. "I'm the only boy. Even Ri's a girl, it's not fair."
"You wish you had a brother to talk to?"
Isshiri nodded. "Girls are silly."
Kid would grow out of that idea, Nellid was fairly sure. He hadn't had much use for his sisters when he was seven, either. "Tell you what," Nellid said. "I come here every weekend. As long as you're here, I can be a boy for you to talk to. How does that sound?"
Isshiri thought long and hard about that, then nodded. "Okay. But no girls allowed when you're here."
Nellid bit back another smile. "No girls allowed," he promised, as solemnly as he could.
He had a feeling Isshiri was going to be another of his favorite kids to visit.
Story: Volunteer
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Jade #14. A distant heart will tend towards like places, Ivory #1. Here I am again in this smoky place with my brandy eyes, Snow White #6. transformation
Supplies and Materials: eraser (In SPACE AU), modeling clay, pastels (my current gen + romance card I2 "management"), chalk, novelty beads ("I wish someone told me..."), glitter ("If we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane." – Jimmy Buffett), glue ("You may be worried that your long-term goals are not very realistic today, but your perspective could be warped by old fears.")
Word Count: 1000
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Nellid, Isshiri
Warnings: Some internalized ableism, references to prejudice against non-humans, references to prejudice against cyborgs, internalized anti-cyborg beliefs, brief description of severe burns, references to amputation, references to heart disease and transplant, reference to transplant rejection, pediatric hospital.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. This takes place in the equivalent of an alternate 976 FY. Nellid is twenty, Isshiri is seven.
Nellid, on weekends while he was in college, volunteered in a Pediatric Fusion specialty clinic. Not the one where he'd gotten his cyborg heart, when his body had rejected the traditional transplant eight years ago, but one like it, in another part of the city.
There were days when he hated it. Kids were only approved for Fusion operations when it was a life-or-death type thing, like his heart. Any kid who was here was dying, unless they sacrificed some fraction of their humanity. Or, more accurately, their parents sacrificed it for them.
Not that he wished he'd died instead of getting his heart, no. Nellid liked living. He liked his classes, he liked his siblings, he liked his parents, he liked his life. He did. He just...wished he'd been able to do it without putting a machine into his body, like he did. Even when it was functioning perfectly, there was that pounding in his ears--you're not a real human anymore. And all software, even the best-designed, glitched sometimes. That had hurt almost more than rejecting the donor heart had. He'd been doing some research, on his own time, about alternatives. But that would have to wait until he was twenty-five and had full control of his trust fund, since Mom would never approve something experimental. Even if Dad felt like Nellid did about his being a cyborg, it would be Mom's voice that won in the end.
Which was why he never went to his Fusion clinic. It hurt enough going to one where the doctors didn't know him. It hurt to see kids, like him, forced to become something less than human.
This clinic, at least, didn't take kids under five. Which helped. A little.
Mostly he talked to the kids. He'd draw with them, or sing silly songs, or read to them. Generally helping them forget, for a little while. Sometimes he helped with the computers--the parts that strangers were allowed to see, at least.
He came in, on a Saturday afternoon, as usual, smiled at the receptionist, and checked the patient list to see if anyone new was in. He had kids he'd gotten pretty close to, over the last two years since he'd started volunteering, but he liked to start with the new ones, so they knew that things got (at least outwardly) better after they left. Even if he wasn't visibly a cyborg, it helped them, at least sometimes.
Just one new kid, a seven-year-old named Isshiri Heidari.
Nellid blinked at the name. There was a Congresswoman his dad worked with sometimes--something Heidari, he couldn't remember her first name off the top of his head, and he thought she had a son that age...
...fuck, I hope not. Last thing anyone here needs is the press descending on top of everything else...
Like they had when he was in the hospital. A Purist Senator's kid becoming a cyborg? Even though Dad was moderate, that was still News.
He headed for Isshiri's room to start.
It was...bad.
The kid had what looked like severe burns over large parts of his body. His right leg was missing from just below his knee, and God only knew what else the doctors were going to have to replace.
"Hey, kid," he said, softly.
Isshiri looked up from toying with his blanket. "...don't know you," he said, uncertainly.
Nellid shook his head and smiled. "No, not yet. My name's Nellid. I help out here sometimes."
"Oh."
"What's your name?"
"Isshiri. My sisters call me 'Sshiri but no one else can."
He nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Isshiri."
The kid shrugged.
"Do you have lots of sisters?" Nellid asked.
Isshiri shook his head. "Just 'Lani and Kira."
Nellid winced internally. Yeah. Congresswoman Heidari's kid. "Those are nice names."
"Uh-huh."
"You know," Nellid said, "I think my daddy works with your mommy."
That got Isshiri to look up again. "Really?"
Nellid smiled again. "Yeah. He talks about her sometimes." And not all of it nice things, but that's nothing to do with you. And I'm sure as hell not going to talk politics with a seven-year-old.
"My mommy doesn't talk about your daddy," Isshiri said, clearly doubting him.
Nellid wrinkled his nose. "I guess she doesn't like him much, then."
Isshiri cracked a smile. "Mommy doesn't like lots of people," he whispered.
"I bet she likes you."
Isshiri shrugged again and looked down. Nellid cursed internally. He got the kid to open up a little, then said the wrong thing. Dammit.
"I've got sisters, too," he tried. "But I've got twice as many as you."
Isshiri frowned. "How many is that?"
Oh, right. Seven was too young for multiplication, unless you got skipped ahead. "Four."
Isshiri considered this. "Are they bigger'n you?"
"Three of them are," Nellid said.
"I bet they're real bossy."
Nellid had to laugh at that. "Why, are your sisters bossy?"
"'Lani is. Really bossy sometimes." Isshiri looked thoroughly annoyed, and Nellid forced himself to stop laughing.
"Do you have brothers, or is it just you and your sisters?"
Isshiri shook his head. "I'm the only boy. Even Ri's a girl, it's not fair."
"You wish you had a brother to talk to?"
Isshiri nodded. "Girls are silly."
Kid would grow out of that idea, Nellid was fairly sure. He hadn't had much use for his sisters when he was seven, either. "Tell you what," Nellid said. "I come here every weekend. As long as you're here, I can be a boy for you to talk to. How does that sound?"
Isshiri thought long and hard about that, then nodded. "Okay. But no girls allowed when you're here."
Nellid bit back another smile. "No girls allowed," he promised, as solemnly as he could.
He had a feeling Isshiri was going to be another of his favorite kids to visit.
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no subject
They pretty much do :D