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rainbowfic2020-07-30 11:53 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2020-07-30 11:53 pm
Library Yellow #17, Jet Pack Blues #1, Jungle Green #8
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Why Not
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Library Yellow #17. aeolist, Jet Pack Blues #1. Burn everything you love, then burn the ashes, Jungle Green #8. Monkey
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lillith Faire Day 4 Second Stage), tapestry (Jungle Green + Novelty Beads), canvas, oils, seed beads, novelty beads (smoke)
Word Count: 380
Rating: R
Characters: Emily Horndil
Warnings: References to disowning/running away, impending Poor Life Choices.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Emily is Mariko's great-grandmother, and probably in her early twenties at this point. Last Jet Pack Blues!
So she'd done it.
She'd actually fucking done it.
Run off. Cut ties. Flipped her family the bird and gotten away from the mystery and the legend and the bullshit they'd fed her since she was eight years old.
She was free.
...now what?
Emily wasn't stupid, at least. She'd been thinking about this for a while, and she'd planned it all out. Saved her money, so she wouldn't be completely fucked over when she couldn't call home or look up the local Messenger for help. She'd waited until her lease on her little apartment was finalized before she'd made her move, then packed up everything she cared about in an afternoon and walked away.
She'd even managed to tell her parents to their faces what she was doing. She was sort of proud of herself for that. That she hadn't taken the easy way out and just left a note.
But that left her...here, in a loud, smoke-filled bar two blocks away from her new place, surrounded by total strangers, staring into her vodka tonic like it had all the answers to the universe. Or, at least, better ones than the tree and the lines and the fucking Davids.
She felt, rather than saw--or even heard--someone slide onto the barstool beside her, and glanced up.
Another stranger, handsome guy, maybe five or ten years older than her. Dark hair, stupid goatee, leather coat that was supposed to make him look dangerous or something, eyes a little bit too bright.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, flashing her a smile.
Which, okay, was a nice smile. And maybe just a little bit dangerous.
And every rational bone in her body, every part of her that had spent months and years planning this, screamed at her that this was a bad idea.
But it was something to help her feel a little less disconnected. Just for tonight. Just until she finished figuring things out. Figuring out who she was, outside the Family.
Now that she didn't have to spend all her time fighting them anymore.
"...sure," she said, and smiled back.
Tomorrow, she'd make better choices. But tonight--tonight she was free, and alone, and exhilerated and scared and maybe a little bit drunk already.
So why the hell not?
Story: Why Not
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Library Yellow #17. aeolist, Jet Pack Blues #1. Burn everything you love, then burn the ashes, Jungle Green #8. Monkey
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lillith Faire Day 4 Second Stage), tapestry (Jungle Green + Novelty Beads), canvas, oils, seed beads, novelty beads (smoke)
Word Count: 380
Rating: R
Characters: Emily Horndil
Warnings: References to disowning/running away, impending Poor Life Choices.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Emily is Mariko's great-grandmother, and probably in her early twenties at this point. Last Jet Pack Blues!
So she'd done it.
She'd actually fucking done it.
Run off. Cut ties. Flipped her family the bird and gotten away from the mystery and the legend and the bullshit they'd fed her since she was eight years old.
She was free.
...now what?
Emily wasn't stupid, at least. She'd been thinking about this for a while, and she'd planned it all out. Saved her money, so she wouldn't be completely fucked over when she couldn't call home or look up the local Messenger for help. She'd waited until her lease on her little apartment was finalized before she'd made her move, then packed up everything she cared about in an afternoon and walked away.
She'd even managed to tell her parents to their faces what she was doing. She was sort of proud of herself for that. That she hadn't taken the easy way out and just left a note.
But that left her...here, in a loud, smoke-filled bar two blocks away from her new place, surrounded by total strangers, staring into her vodka tonic like it had all the answers to the universe. Or, at least, better ones than the tree and the lines and the fucking Davids.
She felt, rather than saw--or even heard--someone slide onto the barstool beside her, and glanced up.
Another stranger, handsome guy, maybe five or ten years older than her. Dark hair, stupid goatee, leather coat that was supposed to make him look dangerous or something, eyes a little bit too bright.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, flashing her a smile.
Which, okay, was a nice smile. And maybe just a little bit dangerous.
And every rational bone in her body, every part of her that had spent months and years planning this, screamed at her that this was a bad idea.
But it was something to help her feel a little less disconnected. Just for tonight. Just until she finished figuring things out. Figuring out who she was, outside the Family.
Now that she didn't have to spend all her time fighting them anymore.
"...sure," she said, and smiled back.
Tomorrow, she'd make better choices. But tonight--tonight she was free, and alone, and exhilerated and scared and maybe a little bit drunk already.
So why the hell not?