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rainbowfic2019-09-10 11:49 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2019-09-10 11:49 pm
Black Saturation: Who You Are Today
Author: Kat
Title: Who You Are Today
Story: Shine Like It Does
Colors: Black saturation
Supplies and Materials: Miniature collection, graffiti (Lilith Faire Second Stage This One's For the Girls, Martina McBride), canvas, frame, novelty beads (age is just a number)
Word Count: 1500
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The Hennessy girls: Isobel, Miranda, Charlotte, Emma, and Glory.
Warning: Classism, racism, sexism, sexual harassment, customer harassment.
Notes: Glory's future profession is subject to change without notice.
13
13. black sheep
Isobel wasn't the only one in her school who wanted to move to America, but she was the only one in her family.
Her sister made fun of her and her brothers called her name. Her father said nothing, but she knew he didn't want her to go. Her mother asked, plaintively, if Mexico wasn't good enough for her.
She didn't know how to explain that it wasn't a question of good enough. It was just that she wanted to see more, to go further. America seemed like a good first step.
Not yet. She wouldn't go yet. But soon.
6. blacklisted
Miranda sometimes thought that Seb was her only real friend.
It wasn't true, of course, but some days it seemed like most of the people she called friends were using her. She was wealthy, popular, and pretty, so other people flocked to her for the edge of her shine. But she used them too, she knew she did. Boys to go to dances with, girls to gossip with, all of them useful to shore up her power.
She tried not to use that power badly, but she could be vicious. She'd cut people out before.
Sometimes they even deserved it.
1. black and blue
School didn't feel good.
Home did. Home felt like hugs and Spanish and people telling her they loved her. School felt like Grandmother Hennessy's house, stiff words and stiffer manners and people being mean to her for her own good.
It wasn't the classes. Charlotte liked learning, and her teachers were pretty nice. It was everything in between, halls and lunch periods and after-school clubs. Nobody bullied her, not after Miranda happened, but she still felt sore every time she passed someone she knew and they didn't even smile. Like she'd been hit.
College would be better. She had to believe that.
11. black belt
"Mama, Mama!" Emma dropped her karate bag at the door and ran into the kitchen, where her mother was sitting at the table. "Mama, guess what!"
"What?" Mama asked, and laughed when Emma collided with her, throwing her arms around her shoulders. "What is it?"
"Sensei said I can test for my green belt next week!" said Emma, dancing in place. "Can you and Dad come? And Benjy?"
Mama beamed. "That's wonderful! Of course we can come."
"Yay!" Emma said, and then, "I hope one day I'm as pretty as you."
Mama's smile got wider. "Oh, Emma. You already are."
3. black eye
Dad sat down across from Glory and heaved a sigh. "Okay, kiddo," he said. "From the top."
Glory glanced up at Mama and looked quickly away. Dad was less scary. "Trevor was bullying Mimi," she said. "So I punched him." She shrugged. "Not much more to say."
"Bullying how?" Dad asked, more patiently than she expected.
Glory screwed up her face. "He called her a bad name," she said. "For Latinas. I don't want to say it. Anyway, he needed punching."
"Yes," Mama said, unexpectedly. "Yes, he did. Good job, Glory, I'm proud of you."
"Miranda," Dad said.
Glory beamed.
25
2. little black dress
She wore the same little black dress to every event. Surprising that no one had noticed.
Then again, little black dresses looked very much alike, and so did the girls trying to break into the industry. Skinny, mostly white, mostly blonde, tits surgically enhanced where nature wasn't generous. Giggly, flirty, terrified and desperate.
Isobel couldn't even say that she was different. She felt that same desperation, that same fear that her time was over before it began. She felt the same hands, the same leering eyes, the same sick stomach.
She didn't judge those girls. She was just like them.
5. little black book
Jack said one day that her little black book must be thick as a brick. Miranda rolled her eyes and told him he was an idiot, but he wasn't completely wrong.
She didn't have a little black book, but only because she never went with anyone twice-- except for Harry, and there was nothing like romance about that. She was probably too young to be so cynical, but there it was; nobody liked her for who she was, and likely never would. Nobody ever saw past the surface.
To some extent, that was how she liked it.
To some extent.
4. in the black
Charlotte had a complicated relationship with money, always had, probably always would. It came from growing up wealthy while everyone who looked like you was poor. Refusing to take family money after college probably didn't help, but it was better than the alternative.
Her salary covered her needs, if not much more. She lived on ramen in a tiny apartment, and she didn't like it exactly, but it was okay. And if she ever wanted the comforts of wealth, it only took one visit home, one sneer from the neighbors, to remind her why she didn't miss it at all.
7. blacked out
Emma woke up on the sidewalk with a sore head and a circle of bystanders. One of them said, "Never mind, she just woke up," and Emma blinked. Was he talking about her?
"Hey," another one said. "You okay, lady?"
"I..." She sat up. The world whirled, then settled again. "My head hurts. What happened?"
"It looked like you had a seizure," a third bystander put in. "My cousin gets those."
A seizure? She blinked again. "What?"
"You went all stiff," the third guy said. "Then you fell down and started jerking. Like my cousin. Seizure."
A seizure?
Well, shit.
9. black comedy
Glory was increasingly sure that she wasn't cut out for grad school.
Oh sure, when she was little, she wanted to go to law school and be a lawyer, just like Mama. Then, when she was bigger, she wanted to be a teacher like Tia Charlotte. By college she had no idea what she wanted to do, but grad school seemed like a good idea. Now here she was, half a year into an English program, and she hated it.
It was kind of darkly funny. The girl who always loved her daddy's stories, despising every minute of studying them.
42
10. black coffee
The Hennessy house had a back porch with an ocean view. Well, not really a porch, Isobel thought, closing the kitchen door behind her. It was more like a stone terrace, overwrought and overdecorated, in keeping with the house's pretentious grandeur.
She couldn't complain about the ocean view, though, nor what was inside the house-- her decorations, her children, her husband. Nor could she complain about the breeze off the sea. Isobel cupped her hand around her coffee mug to let the warmth soak through her bones.
All in all, not a bad life, she thought, and sipped her coffee.
8. black and white
Miranda lived her life in shades of grey and black, moving from shadow to shadow. Less so, now that she no longer had her little side job, but to a certain extent being a lawyer was all about the grey. She didn't mind it, but sometimes she longed for light.
And for that she had her family. Her parents, her siblings. Her husband, who she'd never believed she would keep. Her baby, who she'd never believed she would have.
They lived in a lovely house in Arcadia, airy and full of light, and she had nothing left to wish for.
15. blackballed
Charlotte distrusted perfect; she'd been told what it meant and she didn't want it. But her life now was not perfect. There were fights and toddler tantrums and preteen whines. Right now the oven was broken and the plumbing was making suspicious noises.
Right now, Benjy was playing hide and seek with Emma in the yard-- she could hear Emma giggling. Right now Daniel was sitting at the kitchen table frowning at his grading. Right now, she was drinking a glass of lemonade and watching the clouds sail by.
It wasn't Grandmother Hennessy's perfect life. She wasn't sorry at all.
14. Black Friday
"Well," Emma said, picking glitter out of her hair. "That was an adventure."
Her brother, limping beside her, grimaced. "I hope one we don't need to repeat. Five people stepped on my foot."
"Oh, we never need to repeat that," she said. Black Friday was hectic enough at forty-two. Benjy was fifty-four and had to be feeling every day of it. "But you have to admit it was fun."
"I have to admit no such thing," Benjy said. He paused. "It was fun though. Foot pain and all."
Emma grinned at him. "You're my favorite."
"I know," he said, smiling.
12. blackmail
"This is garbage!" the client snarled, waving at his garden. "All these trees, this pink shit, garbage!"
Glory smiled at him. It was probably her mother's toothy smile, because he put his hands down. "I'm sorry you're disappointed, Mr. Richard, but you did sign off on the plans."
He snorted. "I did no such thing. I demand you redo everything for free."
"No," Glory said. "And before you threaten lawyers, I should mention mine. You probably know her, Miranda Hennessy?"
He did know her. He went white.
"Nice working with you," Glory said, and smiled again. "Don't call us again."
Title: Who You Are Today
Story: Shine Like It Does
Colors: Black saturation
Supplies and Materials: Miniature collection, graffiti (Lilith Faire Second Stage This One's For the Girls, Martina McBride), canvas, frame, novelty beads (age is just a number)
Word Count: 1500
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The Hennessy girls: Isobel, Miranda, Charlotte, Emma, and Glory.
Warning: Classism, racism, sexism, sexual harassment, customer harassment.
Notes: Glory's future profession is subject to change without notice.
13. black sheep
Isobel wasn't the only one in her school who wanted to move to America, but she was the only one in her family.
Her sister made fun of her and her brothers called her name. Her father said nothing, but she knew he didn't want her to go. Her mother asked, plaintively, if Mexico wasn't good enough for her.
She didn't know how to explain that it wasn't a question of good enough. It was just that she wanted to see more, to go further. America seemed like a good first step.
Not yet. She wouldn't go yet. But soon.
6. blacklisted
Miranda sometimes thought that Seb was her only real friend.
It wasn't true, of course, but some days it seemed like most of the people she called friends were using her. She was wealthy, popular, and pretty, so other people flocked to her for the edge of her shine. But she used them too, she knew she did. Boys to go to dances with, girls to gossip with, all of them useful to shore up her power.
She tried not to use that power badly, but she could be vicious. She'd cut people out before.
Sometimes they even deserved it.
1. black and blue
School didn't feel good.
Home did. Home felt like hugs and Spanish and people telling her they loved her. School felt like Grandmother Hennessy's house, stiff words and stiffer manners and people being mean to her for her own good.
It wasn't the classes. Charlotte liked learning, and her teachers were pretty nice. It was everything in between, halls and lunch periods and after-school clubs. Nobody bullied her, not after Miranda happened, but she still felt sore every time she passed someone she knew and they didn't even smile. Like she'd been hit.
College would be better. She had to believe that.
11. black belt
"Mama, Mama!" Emma dropped her karate bag at the door and ran into the kitchen, where her mother was sitting at the table. "Mama, guess what!"
"What?" Mama asked, and laughed when Emma collided with her, throwing her arms around her shoulders. "What is it?"
"Sensei said I can test for my green belt next week!" said Emma, dancing in place. "Can you and Dad come? And Benjy?"
Mama beamed. "That's wonderful! Of course we can come."
"Yay!" Emma said, and then, "I hope one day I'm as pretty as you."
Mama's smile got wider. "Oh, Emma. You already are."
3. black eye
Dad sat down across from Glory and heaved a sigh. "Okay, kiddo," he said. "From the top."
Glory glanced up at Mama and looked quickly away. Dad was less scary. "Trevor was bullying Mimi," she said. "So I punched him." She shrugged. "Not much more to say."
"Bullying how?" Dad asked, more patiently than she expected.
Glory screwed up her face. "He called her a bad name," she said. "For Latinas. I don't want to say it. Anyway, he needed punching."
"Yes," Mama said, unexpectedly. "Yes, he did. Good job, Glory, I'm proud of you."
"Miranda," Dad said.
Glory beamed.
2. little black dress
She wore the same little black dress to every event. Surprising that no one had noticed.
Then again, little black dresses looked very much alike, and so did the girls trying to break into the industry. Skinny, mostly white, mostly blonde, tits surgically enhanced where nature wasn't generous. Giggly, flirty, terrified and desperate.
Isobel couldn't even say that she was different. She felt that same desperation, that same fear that her time was over before it began. She felt the same hands, the same leering eyes, the same sick stomach.
She didn't judge those girls. She was just like them.
5. little black book
Jack said one day that her little black book must be thick as a brick. Miranda rolled her eyes and told him he was an idiot, but he wasn't completely wrong.
She didn't have a little black book, but only because she never went with anyone twice-- except for Harry, and there was nothing like romance about that. She was probably too young to be so cynical, but there it was; nobody liked her for who she was, and likely never would. Nobody ever saw past the surface.
To some extent, that was how she liked it.
To some extent.
4. in the black
Charlotte had a complicated relationship with money, always had, probably always would. It came from growing up wealthy while everyone who looked like you was poor. Refusing to take family money after college probably didn't help, but it was better than the alternative.
Her salary covered her needs, if not much more. She lived on ramen in a tiny apartment, and she didn't like it exactly, but it was okay. And if she ever wanted the comforts of wealth, it only took one visit home, one sneer from the neighbors, to remind her why she didn't miss it at all.
7. blacked out
Emma woke up on the sidewalk with a sore head and a circle of bystanders. One of them said, "Never mind, she just woke up," and Emma blinked. Was he talking about her?
"Hey," another one said. "You okay, lady?"
"I..." She sat up. The world whirled, then settled again. "My head hurts. What happened?"
"It looked like you had a seizure," a third bystander put in. "My cousin gets those."
A seizure? She blinked again. "What?"
"You went all stiff," the third guy said. "Then you fell down and started jerking. Like my cousin. Seizure."
A seizure?
Well, shit.
9. black comedy
Glory was increasingly sure that she wasn't cut out for grad school.
Oh sure, when she was little, she wanted to go to law school and be a lawyer, just like Mama. Then, when she was bigger, she wanted to be a teacher like Tia Charlotte. By college she had no idea what she wanted to do, but grad school seemed like a good idea. Now here she was, half a year into an English program, and she hated it.
It was kind of darkly funny. The girl who always loved her daddy's stories, despising every minute of studying them.
10. black coffee
The Hennessy house had a back porch with an ocean view. Well, not really a porch, Isobel thought, closing the kitchen door behind her. It was more like a stone terrace, overwrought and overdecorated, in keeping with the house's pretentious grandeur.
She couldn't complain about the ocean view, though, nor what was inside the house-- her decorations, her children, her husband. Nor could she complain about the breeze off the sea. Isobel cupped her hand around her coffee mug to let the warmth soak through her bones.
All in all, not a bad life, she thought, and sipped her coffee.
8. black and white
Miranda lived her life in shades of grey and black, moving from shadow to shadow. Less so, now that she no longer had her little side job, but to a certain extent being a lawyer was all about the grey. She didn't mind it, but sometimes she longed for light.
And for that she had her family. Her parents, her siblings. Her husband, who she'd never believed she would keep. Her baby, who she'd never believed she would have.
They lived in a lovely house in Arcadia, airy and full of light, and she had nothing left to wish for.
15. blackballed
Charlotte distrusted perfect; she'd been told what it meant and she didn't want it. But her life now was not perfect. There were fights and toddler tantrums and preteen whines. Right now the oven was broken and the plumbing was making suspicious noises.
Right now, Benjy was playing hide and seek with Emma in the yard-- she could hear Emma giggling. Right now Daniel was sitting at the kitchen table frowning at his grading. Right now, she was drinking a glass of lemonade and watching the clouds sail by.
It wasn't Grandmother Hennessy's perfect life. She wasn't sorry at all.
14. Black Friday
"Well," Emma said, picking glitter out of her hair. "That was an adventure."
Her brother, limping beside her, grimaced. "I hope one we don't need to repeat. Five people stepped on my foot."
"Oh, we never need to repeat that," she said. Black Friday was hectic enough at forty-two. Benjy was fifty-four and had to be feeling every day of it. "But you have to admit it was fun."
"I have to admit no such thing," Benjy said. He paused. "It was fun though. Foot pain and all."
Emma grinned at him. "You're my favorite."
"I know," he said, smiling.
12. blackmail
"This is garbage!" the client snarled, waving at his garden. "All these trees, this pink shit, garbage!"
Glory smiled at him. It was probably her mother's toothy smile, because he put his hands down. "I'm sorry you're disappointed, Mr. Richard, but you did sign off on the plans."
He snorted. "I did no such thing. I demand you redo everything for free."
"No," Glory said. "And before you threaten lawyers, I should mention mine. You probably know her, Miranda Hennessy?"
He did know her. He went white.
"Nice working with you," Glory said, and smiled again. "Don't call us again."
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