shadowsong26 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shadowsong26) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2020-07-27 11:36 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2020-07-27 11:36 pm
Jet Pack Blues #13, The Hills of Iowa #2
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Steps to Starting Over
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Jet Pack Blues #13. Baby, we should have left our love in the gutter where we found it, The Hills of Iowa #2. Oh, my enemy, beautiful enemy.
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire Day 1: Second Stage), pointillism, miniature collection, photography, novelty beads ("And you didn't mean to do it/So I don't have to believe it/If you didn't really mean it/Magical thinking gets us by." Fairweather Friend, Vanessa Carlton)
Word Count: 366
Rating: R
Characters: Mariko
Warnings: References to war and the fire, implications of an abusive relationship.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. References to these previous bits: one, two, three, four.
I.
Mariko's heart hammered in her throat, that floating feeling falling away when the door shut behind Lux; after the fire, after the last ten years, after everything--she'd never expected to see her again, never wanted to see her again, but there she had been, in Mariko's office, tall and lean and inhuman and beautiful; and the scariest part was, Mariko wasn't sure whether it was fear or desire or both that took her breath away.
II.
Fury was a word for it; for what she felt when Lux told her she'd sent that poor man out into the cold with no protection, after she had promised she would let Mariko handle it--oh, yes, Mariko was furious on Simon Gilboa's behalf; but she still found herself willing to at least listen to what Lux had to say, to her reasons, to her history--and her name.
III.
Lux was leaving, going back to her war or her fate or whatever the hell she wanted to call it; and Mariko didn't know what to do--nothing had changed; Lux had still done so many horrible things, to her, to Gilboa, to how many thousands of others--but Lux was leaving, and even if it came without lies or revelations or fire she still felt burning her from time to time...Lux was leaving, and Mariko couldn't think past how much she didn't want her to go.
IV.
The whole thing was stupid, really; just one more stupid decision in a string of stupid decisions--it was like Lux entered the room and all capacity for rational thought flew out of Mariko's head; she was brilliant, well-educated, had had serious, healthy relationships before; but she still found herself in the launch bay, with a bag slung over her shoulder (and a resignation letter left on her desk), trying to figure out which ship was hers.
V.
And then Lux took an almost-literal bullet for her (she wasn't sure what it was, but she was pretty sure it wasn't technically a bullet); Lux came close to dying for her; and it wasn't that the not-bullet or the blood erased the horrors between them but...but it was enough, just barely enough, to make her willing to try and start again.
Story: Steps to Starting Over
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Jet Pack Blues #13. Baby, we should have left our love in the gutter where we found it, The Hills of Iowa #2. Oh, my enemy, beautiful enemy.
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire Day 1: Second Stage), pointillism, miniature collection, photography, novelty beads ("And you didn't mean to do it/So I don't have to believe it/If you didn't really mean it/Magical thinking gets us by." Fairweather Friend, Vanessa Carlton)
Word Count: 366
Rating: R
Characters: Mariko
Warnings: References to war and the fire, implications of an abusive relationship.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. References to these previous bits: one, two, three, four.
I.
Mariko's heart hammered in her throat, that floating feeling falling away when the door shut behind Lux; after the fire, after the last ten years, after everything--she'd never expected to see her again, never wanted to see her again, but there she had been, in Mariko's office, tall and lean and inhuman and beautiful; and the scariest part was, Mariko wasn't sure whether it was fear or desire or both that took her breath away.
II.
Fury was a word for it; for what she felt when Lux told her she'd sent that poor man out into the cold with no protection, after she had promised she would let Mariko handle it--oh, yes, Mariko was furious on Simon Gilboa's behalf; but she still found herself willing to at least listen to what Lux had to say, to her reasons, to her history--and her name.
III.
Lux was leaving, going back to her war or her fate or whatever the hell she wanted to call it; and Mariko didn't know what to do--nothing had changed; Lux had still done so many horrible things, to her, to Gilboa, to how many thousands of others--but Lux was leaving, and even if it came without lies or revelations or fire she still felt burning her from time to time...Lux was leaving, and Mariko couldn't think past how much she didn't want her to go.
IV.
The whole thing was stupid, really; just one more stupid decision in a string of stupid decisions--it was like Lux entered the room and all capacity for rational thought flew out of Mariko's head; she was brilliant, well-educated, had had serious, healthy relationships before; but she still found herself in the launch bay, with a bag slung over her shoulder (and a resignation letter left on her desk), trying to figure out which ship was hers.
V.
And then Lux took an almost-literal bullet for her (she wasn't sure what it was, but she was pretty sure it wasn't technically a bullet); Lux came close to dying for her; and it wasn't that the not-bullet or the blood erased the horrors between them but...but it was enough, just barely enough, to make her willing to try and start again.