shadowsong26 (
shadowsong26) wrote in
rainbowfic2012-03-13 10:29 pm
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Nacre #4, Celestial Blue #2, Sulphur #17
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Unsafe
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Nacre #4. Under the floorboards, Celestial Blue #2. thou shalt not, Sulphur #17. Torture
Supplies and Materials: miniature collection, modeling clay, canvas (the first three), seed beads
Word Count: 635
Rating: R
Characters: A brother and sister from Feredar, The Murderer
Warnings: Internalized dehumanization of mages, parental abandonment and death, genocide, murder with mutilation from the victim's POV
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
My mother was human. I am not.
When I was born, my brother tells me, my father had been staying not with them, but just a little ways down the street. He hadn't known that my father wasn't human, especially since his was, but he thinks that Mamma always knew--she certainly watched me early so she knew how to hide me.
My father, when he found out I was coming, ran away.
Mamma died when I was ten, and my brother was fourteen, and I think that's when she told him about my metal toys and why I had them. He was the one who explained to me--really helped me understand--how dangerous it was for me. Back then, we didn't think that anywhere else might be safer, so I just kept my toys hidden under the floor and he would tell me when it was safe to take them out and remake them.
Things changed when I was sixteen. The Queen was murdered, and the King began to hate us even more. Now, just for existing, I'd be taken away from my brother and collared forever.
My brother wanted to throw away my metals, but I begged him not to. We'd been safe so far, and there was no way to prove I wasn't human unless someone saw me, and I always stayed away from windows when I worked. He was still afraid, but finally gave in. Which is good, because I don't know what would happen to me if I just stopped.
When I was twenty-two, my brother began hearing whispers about a way out. We didn't try to find out more, because what was the point of going out? It wouldn't change what I was, and it might bring trouble down on him, which I refused to allow. He did keep trying to talk me into it, but as long as I refused, and as long as things didn't change again, he was willing to let me have my way.
When I was twenty-four, the King died. The new King announced that he had been too gentle. He didn't give an exact start time or method, but first went the collared ones who regularly caused problems. Sometimes we saw bodies, sometimes they just disappeared.
We stopped arguing about my leaving. Even if I was still collared for failing to register, at least I wouldn’t die. We came up with a good story to keep him safe--his contact said there was only space for freaks--and he brought me to the checkpoint. That was the last time I saw him.
I didn't much like the ship--it was bigger than any I'd ever seen, and being on the water felt very strange--but I handled it better than the others
The captain came and asked me why I didn't have a collar, and I told him how I had managed to stay hidden all my life. And…he didn't collar me. He just smiled, and said he was glad that I'd stayed safe so long. He asked me what my thread was. I told him, and he smiled again, and said it was good to have me on his ship.
Tonight, I’ve woken up back on land. And something is very, very wrong.
I've lost my earrings, all my metal, and I'm hanging from ceiling, my toes just brushing the ground, with ropes twisting all the way from my wrists to my elbows. I keep trying to break free, doing everything I can think of--trying to spot nails in the wall I could maybe summon to cut myself free.
But now I see him. And I know him. And he has a glass knife and--
"Shh. It'll all be over soon."
And now all I can do is scream.
Story: Unsafe
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Nacre #4. Under the floorboards, Celestial Blue #2. thou shalt not, Sulphur #17. Torture
Supplies and Materials: miniature collection, modeling clay, canvas (the first three), seed beads
Word Count: 635
Rating: R
Characters: A brother and sister from Feredar, The Murderer
Warnings: Internalized dehumanization of mages, parental abandonment and death, genocide, murder with mutilation from the victim's POV
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
My mother was human. I am not.
When I was born, my brother tells me, my father had been staying not with them, but just a little ways down the street. He hadn't known that my father wasn't human, especially since his was, but he thinks that Mamma always knew--she certainly watched me early so she knew how to hide me.
My father, when he found out I was coming, ran away.
Mamma died when I was ten, and my brother was fourteen, and I think that's when she told him about my metal toys and why I had them. He was the one who explained to me--really helped me understand--how dangerous it was for me. Back then, we didn't think that anywhere else might be safer, so I just kept my toys hidden under the floor and he would tell me when it was safe to take them out and remake them.
Things changed when I was sixteen. The Queen was murdered, and the King began to hate us even more. Now, just for existing, I'd be taken away from my brother and collared forever.
My brother wanted to throw away my metals, but I begged him not to. We'd been safe so far, and there was no way to prove I wasn't human unless someone saw me, and I always stayed away from windows when I worked. He was still afraid, but finally gave in. Which is good, because I don't know what would happen to me if I just stopped.
When I was twenty-two, my brother began hearing whispers about a way out. We didn't try to find out more, because what was the point of going out? It wouldn't change what I was, and it might bring trouble down on him, which I refused to allow. He did keep trying to talk me into it, but as long as I refused, and as long as things didn't change again, he was willing to let me have my way.
When I was twenty-four, the King died. The new King announced that he had been too gentle. He didn't give an exact start time or method, but first went the collared ones who regularly caused problems. Sometimes we saw bodies, sometimes they just disappeared.
We stopped arguing about my leaving. Even if I was still collared for failing to register, at least I wouldn’t die. We came up with a good story to keep him safe--his contact said there was only space for freaks--and he brought me to the checkpoint. That was the last time I saw him.
I didn't much like the ship--it was bigger than any I'd ever seen, and being on the water felt very strange--but I handled it better than the others
The captain came and asked me why I didn't have a collar, and I told him how I had managed to stay hidden all my life. And…he didn't collar me. He just smiled, and said he was glad that I'd stayed safe so long. He asked me what my thread was. I told him, and he smiled again, and said it was good to have me on his ship.
Tonight, I’ve woken up back on land. And something is very, very wrong.
I've lost my earrings, all my metal, and I'm hanging from ceiling, my toes just brushing the ground, with ropes twisting all the way from my wrists to my elbows. I keep trying to break free, doing everything I can think of--trying to spot nails in the wall I could maybe summon to cut myself free.
But now I see him. And I know him. And he has a glass knife and--
"Shh. It'll all be over soon."
And now all I can do is scream.
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Nice job.
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Thank you.
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Thank you.
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Good job!
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