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rainbowfic2020-07-30 09:22 pm
greenling) wrote in rainbowfic2020-07-30 09:22 pm
Ice Water Gray #7/Oliphaunt Gray #15, Proper Terms Purple #19
Name: Greenling
Story: Asking for Roses
Colors: Ice Water Gray #7 (I'm gonna knock that look right off your face like life don't hold you no more mystery) / Oliphaunt Gray #15 (If ever you'd met me you wouldn't forget me), Proper Terms Purple #19 (Covert)
Supplies and Styles: Bichromatic (Oliphaunt Gray/Ice Water Gray), Graffiti (Lilith Fair Second Stage Day 4)
Word Count: 793
Rating: PG
Warnings: One vague mention of transphobia.
NGL I've been working on this for months off and on? But I finished it today with help from the Graffiti so I'm going to count it. Rebooting Asking for Roses with... some of the same characters.
"How much longer?" Sophia asked halfway through the second of three wet chili con carne burritos. She looked tiny hunched down and folded up in the garish red-and-green-painted metal chair, her head bowed like she was watching her food for signs it would run off.
Joel's thin drawl came through the mind link immediately, shoving little tacos into his mouth all in one bite each. "Twenty-five minutes, thirty-five seconds as of you sayin' that. We're fine. Hey, you got chili on your shirt."
Her dark eyes flicked up from her plate to meet his in an icy stare. "You know I can tell when you're lying."
"Yeah. I dunno how you manage to eat that without even gettin' any on your face, though." He grinned back at her, mouth still full of taco. Sophia turned her eyes away, making a face.
"I assume the same way you manage not to get us run out of the restaurant even though you smell like a barnyard: practice."
She wasn't doing much to hide her amusement, at least past the surface; her face was still when he wasn't prodding her to react, eyes almost glazed. Maybe she was worried about being noticed, being remembered, even in the empty restaurant, or maybe she was always like this. Joel, meanwhile, was just nervous. Nervous and uncomfortable.
"I'll wash up while you're waitin' in the bus line. You said you got deodorant?"
"Wash your pits and feet, then deodorant. Then take your shoes off, change into clean socks, put some more on your hand, rub that into your shoes. Don't use the stick, I don't want my new stick smelling like the insides of your horrible shoes." There was a feeling like a mental sigh. "I would've gotten you clean underwear if I'd thought of it. It'll be harder once we get back into a big city."
"How's that?"
"More people paying attention. More security-" Her head jerked up, and his followed. Their waitress, a plain, middle-aged white woman with a hair bun, had stepped out from the kitchen towards them, carrying the little black check-holder.
She paused only a second when Sophia's head snapped up, striding forward professionally between the empty tables towards the front window where they'd decided to sit.
"Just putting this here, sorry." The woman's smile was polite, not reaching her eyes. "You two need anything, any more refills?"
Joel swallowed and nodded quickly, wiping his face with his napkin then grinning up at her. "Yes ma'am, if y'would."
"You're going to be in the bathroom the whole bus ride," Sophia commented silently, her head back down at her food.
"For both of us, please," Joel added out loud.
"All right. You two kids... on a date?"
"We're siblings," he said. Sophia's head raised again, her expression blank; his grin was wide and sincere. The waitress looked... well, her eyes went a little wide and her lips flattened out a bit, but barely enough to make note of if you weren't Sophia, and also looking very closely.
"Actually," Sophia thought, "eat slower. And let's get dessert."
"Hm?" Joel was surprised enough to make the noise out loud.
"You kids have fun now," the waitress said, and started to turn.
"Uh, ma'am? Could we have dessert actually?" Joel asked.
"Sure! You want the menu?" she said with that same polite smile.
"Yes please," he said with a grin, and went back to eating.
Two minutes and fifteen seconds until time for the bus, the two were running, Sophia in front, Joel trying to catch up.
"Are you seriously not gonna pay-"
"Husssshh!" Sophie turned and hissed, a grin on her face, then switched to thoughts. "She was a mean old bitch anyway. She clocked both of us and you don't want to know what she was thinking."
Joel still felt guilty, and resolved to do something to make up for it, though he had no idea what.
The bus was already there, thankfully waiting like it was supposed to, and Joel only had a brief moment of panic as he pulled their folded tickets out of his pocket and gave them to driver to look over. The lady just nodded and handed them back.
The bus was pretty packed, but they found a place together and scrunched up for the ride, Sophie shoving her massive messenger bag under the seat.
"God what I wouldn't do for some weed right now, I'm shaking," Joel thought.
"You are a really weird mix of choir boy and rebel," Sophia thought back, looking at him with a smirk.
"Yeah, yeah." He closed his eyes and started trying to meditate. Not much to do on the ride but expand his consciousness.
The PA system cracked on and the bus started rumbling.
Story: Asking for Roses
Colors: Ice Water Gray #7 (I'm gonna knock that look right off your face like life don't hold you no more mystery) / Oliphaunt Gray #15 (If ever you'd met me you wouldn't forget me), Proper Terms Purple #19 (Covert)
Supplies and Styles: Bichromatic (Oliphaunt Gray/Ice Water Gray), Graffiti (Lilith Fair Second Stage Day 4)
Word Count: 793
Rating: PG
Warnings: One vague mention of transphobia.
NGL I've been working on this for months off and on? But I finished it today with help from the Graffiti so I'm going to count it. Rebooting Asking for Roses with... some of the same characters.
"How much longer?" Sophia asked halfway through the second of three wet chili con carne burritos. She looked tiny hunched down and folded up in the garish red-and-green-painted metal chair, her head bowed like she was watching her food for signs it would run off.
Joel's thin drawl came through the mind link immediately, shoving little tacos into his mouth all in one bite each. "Twenty-five minutes, thirty-five seconds as of you sayin' that. We're fine. Hey, you got chili on your shirt."
Her dark eyes flicked up from her plate to meet his in an icy stare. "You know I can tell when you're lying."
"Yeah. I dunno how you manage to eat that without even gettin' any on your face, though." He grinned back at her, mouth still full of taco. Sophia turned her eyes away, making a face.
"I assume the same way you manage not to get us run out of the restaurant even though you smell like a barnyard: practice."
She wasn't doing much to hide her amusement, at least past the surface; her face was still when he wasn't prodding her to react, eyes almost glazed. Maybe she was worried about being noticed, being remembered, even in the empty restaurant, or maybe she was always like this. Joel, meanwhile, was just nervous. Nervous and uncomfortable.
"I'll wash up while you're waitin' in the bus line. You said you got deodorant?"
"Wash your pits and feet, then deodorant. Then take your shoes off, change into clean socks, put some more on your hand, rub that into your shoes. Don't use the stick, I don't want my new stick smelling like the insides of your horrible shoes." There was a feeling like a mental sigh. "I would've gotten you clean underwear if I'd thought of it. It'll be harder once we get back into a big city."
"How's that?"
"More people paying attention. More security-" Her head jerked up, and his followed. Their waitress, a plain, middle-aged white woman with a hair bun, had stepped out from the kitchen towards them, carrying the little black check-holder.
She paused only a second when Sophia's head snapped up, striding forward professionally between the empty tables towards the front window where they'd decided to sit.
"Just putting this here, sorry." The woman's smile was polite, not reaching her eyes. "You two need anything, any more refills?"
Joel swallowed and nodded quickly, wiping his face with his napkin then grinning up at her. "Yes ma'am, if y'would."
"You're going to be in the bathroom the whole bus ride," Sophia commented silently, her head back down at her food.
"For both of us, please," Joel added out loud.
"All right. You two kids... on a date?"
"We're siblings," he said. Sophia's head raised again, her expression blank; his grin was wide and sincere. The waitress looked... well, her eyes went a little wide and her lips flattened out a bit, but barely enough to make note of if you weren't Sophia, and also looking very closely.
"Actually," Sophia thought, "eat slower. And let's get dessert."
"Hm?" Joel was surprised enough to make the noise out loud.
"You kids have fun now," the waitress said, and started to turn.
"Uh, ma'am? Could we have dessert actually?" Joel asked.
"Sure! You want the menu?" she said with that same polite smile.
"Yes please," he said with a grin, and went back to eating.
Two minutes and fifteen seconds until time for the bus, the two were running, Sophia in front, Joel trying to catch up.
"Are you seriously not gonna pay-"
"Husssshh!" Sophie turned and hissed, a grin on her face, then switched to thoughts. "She was a mean old bitch anyway. She clocked both of us and you don't want to know what she was thinking."
Joel still felt guilty, and resolved to do something to make up for it, though he had no idea what.
The bus was already there, thankfully waiting like it was supposed to, and Joel only had a brief moment of panic as he pulled their folded tickets out of his pocket and gave them to driver to look over. The lady just nodded and handed them back.
The bus was pretty packed, but they found a place together and scrunched up for the ride, Sophie shoving her massive messenger bag under the seat.
"God what I wouldn't do for some weed right now, I'm shaking," Joel thought.
"You are a really weird mix of choir boy and rebel," Sophia thought back, looking at him with a smirk.
"Yeah, yeah." He closed his eyes and started trying to meditate. Not much to do on the ride but expand his consciousness.
The PA system cracked on and the bus started rumbling.
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I am trying to write that one, so hopefully you'll see!
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1. "Though one might stand on the brink of a deep chasm of disaster, one was still obliged to dress for dinner.” ― Georgette Heyer
2. damaging rumor
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