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rainbowfic2023-09-11 11:36 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2023-09-11 11:36 pm
Outer Space
Name: shadowsong26
Story: The Horsemen Ride
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Outer Space Saturation
Supplies and Materials: saturation, graffiti (Space Month: Challenges Pioneer and Sputnik), resin
Word Count: 2587
Rating: PG-13/R
Characters: Rubika, Imi, Shane, Dimana
Warnings: References to war/violence/plague/etc. Minor character death.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Just under the wire, as I so often am...anyway, a series of Outsider POV snapshots of the Horsemen as Entities. Could I get a color tag for Outer Space, please?
1. black hole
I guess everyone has things they want, or need, or think they need. And I guess that the line between that and obsession is thinner than we like to think.
There was this old woman, walking through the streets. Like any other grandmother, really, but something--there was something about her that kept catching my eye, whenever my path crossed hers. And I wanted--I needed--I thought I needed--something.
I don’t know.
By the time she approached me, I think I would have told her anything, really. If it would help me figure out what that something was.
2. constellation
They looked like a family, really. Well, none of them look much alike, but the feel of them, that was family.
Four--or maybe three and a half--generations, sitting together in the café, talking. Laughing. Happy.
It was the funniest thing, though. When I was looking right at them, there was something special, you know? But it was like the more I looked at them, the more my eyes fought me to move on to something else. To look away.
And when I did, I just remembered them as a family.
3. asteroid
There was a sense of impact when she walked in.
Maybe it was just--the way she carried herself. That confidence. Her beauty. Some people are just like that.
But still, something in me whispered--something’s gonna happen.
She made her way to the bar, got a drink. She turned in my direction and raised her glass; I flushed and looked away.
She headed for the card tables, and far as I could tell, things went the same as always. Maybe a real good or bad night for some, but these things happen.
And then she left. And that was that.
I never saw her again.
4. planet
My world had had a lot of problems over the last few years. Shady elections, bad harvests, you name it, it happened.
And then the four of them in their little ship dropped by.
It was probably a coincidence. Humans are like that, we like to look for Reasons and a Single Cause for things. It’s why the ancients were so obsessed with omens and astrology and things like that, I think.
But if I had to pick a turning point, I think it was that day. The day the three women and the little girl, nothing special really, just people, stopped by to refuel and resupply on their way to wherever the hell they were going.
It was almost as if they took the conflict and all its consequences away with them when they went.
Which is ridiculous, of course. Just my human brain looking for meaning in a universe that doesn’t really have all that much.
It’s a nice story, though, isn’t it?
5. star
She seemed--not solid, exactly, but very there, if that makes sense? Permanent.
She was the youngest of the three adults in the group, but the others seemed to turn to her. Like they were planets and she was their star.
She was as remote and beautiful as a star, too, I thought. I mean, I don’t usually pay that much attention to the pilots fueling up at the station, that’s not really my job, but there was something about her. Something pretty and permanent and constant, and very real--but maybe far away.
6. white dwarf
I couldn’t get the little girl out of my head. The sense of loss, of legacy, of something ancient, behind those soft green eyes.
She’d been alone; sitting on a bench, tracing patterns along the armrest with her fingers. And, sure, she wasn’t that little, I suppose; twelve or thirteen; and it was only a few minutes before her--sister, cousin, maybe mother?--joined her and they left together. No real need to worry.
She just seemed…fragile. And, well. Lost.
When things started to go wrong, I thought about that little girl.
I was glad she’d left before it happened.
7. supernova
In hindsight, it’s kind of dumb, really. They were four ordinary people, on a mostly-ordinary ship (it wasn’t high-end high-end, but it was nice, and had some pretty neat aftermarket additions).
But at the same time, when they passed through, I had the strangest feeling that this was a once-in-a-lifetime event. A flare of…something magnificent and wild and maybe a little dangerous.
Which is ridiculous, like I said. But at the same time, I couldn’t really shake it.
And I know the universe doesn’t work like that, but…even now…I wonder sometimes. If I was maybe on the very fringe of something life-changing, and almost didn’t see it.
8. sun
My first impression, when the two women came into my shop, was of brilliance.
Not…not necessarily a good thing.
The older one, she was like…high noon in a desert; inescapable thirst, blinding light.
The other, middle-aged and charming, more gave the impression if you looked too close, or too long, you’d regret it.
They were polite, though. Despite that raw edge of blinding light, they were among the more decent customers I’ve had.
Still, I’m not ashamed to admit I was just a little bit relieved when the door closed behind them on their way out.
9. moon
She seemed ordinary, really; like any other young woman browsing through the market, chatting on the phone with someone--maybe her mother, almost certainly someone she hadn’t seen for a while. The gloves were a little odd, it was warm enough here to need them, but twenty-something is an age where people play with fashion.
Except.
I caught a glimpse of her reflection as she passed by a window.
Of her eyes.
An unnameable color; pale and…not empty, not hollow, but…
I tripped over my own two feet, drawing her attention; she turned and looked at me quizzically.
Trick of the light; or the shadows on the glass. Her eyes were blue. Very, very pale blue, not really matching the rest of her coloring but. Maybe contacts. Fashion choice. Right.
I flashed her a quick smile, waved my hand to say I was all right, and quickly made my way elsewhere.
It was a long time before I forgot those eyes, floating in the dark glass.
10. rings
Her jewelry first caught my attention.
She drew attention to her in general, which normally would have made her not worth the risk. I’ve been doing this for a while, and I’m not stupid.
Jewelry is a pain in the ass to fence, anyway.
Maybe there was just something in the air, pushing people to take risks; bet big; call bluffs. There did seem to be a lot more bickering than usual.
So I figured, what the hell.
Until I worked my way almost close enough to slip in and take what I could. And she glanced down at me, not like a threat, but that she knew I was there.
Those red-haze eyes had me backing away in a hurry.
Some risks are not worth taking.
11. galaxy
It’s funny, you know, all the little things that link people together across the universe.
I could’ve sworn the old lady looked like my cousin. Or, well, technically my cousin’s wife, and technically my third cousin twice removed or something like that.
And it could be possible. That she was--related to my cousin-in-law, who had a huge family, anyway.
But I don’t know. Possible family resemblance aside, there was something that made it feel unlikely.
She did look familiar though, I would swear to that. It took me a long time--days after she left, in fact--to peel that thought out of my head and move on.
12. nebula
It’s not often that something sneaks up on me.
I mean, it’s my job not to let that happen. Basically a glorified lighthouse operator for the 30th century, peering into the clouds of gasses and space dust, guiding people through to safety.
So when the little ship appeared, drifting into and then out of view like one of the ghost ships of ancient stories, it threw me.
Maybe I’d just been on duty for too long. There were four of us; working rotating shifts for two weeks before we were relieved by the next crew, and this was my last shift before a two-week break. It wasn’t unheard of to have false positives and Weird Shit happen at times like that.
It had just never happened to me before.
But I’m a professional, so I shook it off, and went back to watching for actual danger.
I kept an eye out for the little ship, though. Just in case.
13. cluster
You’d think with the advent of space travel, traffic jams would be less of a thing but no. At least around the major ports and trading posts, a few of the better-established cities, you’ll still spend what feels like days on end, waiting. Inching forward.
Lucky me, I work in the port, so I can’t even avoid it and find longer but less frustrating ways to get where I need to go.
Ugh.
For the most part, the days blur together, but this morning--it was weird. My attention kept getting drawn to a not-so-special little ship, like the kind used by private couriers. I don’t know why. Like I said, it was nothing special. Just inching along with the rest of us, going about its business, whatever that might be.
Eh, I was probably just bored, and the light reflected off it just the right way at just the right time or something. These things happen.
Wish I could remember any identifying details, though. Might’ve been fun to look it up when I got into work.
Just to see if there really was something there.
14. comet
I didn’t see anything, really. Just this very strong impression of rage, the kind of rage only something small and wounded can feel.
A pair of green eyes in the darkness; a swirling trail following them as they flashed out of sight.
Cold, and isolation, and all that was left behind.
The whole thing was over as soon as it started, and I shook it off. Or tried to, anyway.
Weirdest damn thing I’d ever felt.
And, even three drinks later, the afterimage kept flashing every time I closed my eyes.
15. meteorite
I grew up on Earth, and, a couple times, I was lucky enough to catch a meteor shower. (I know they’re better on Charon or some other worlds, but there’s something about being able to say I saw one from Earth that gets me attention at parties).
Anyway, when I saw the four of them--the old woman; the middle-aged one; the young one; the girl--for some reason, I thought of those meteor showers when I was a little boy. Blazing across the sky, drawing all kinds of attention and granted a whole lot of meaning for something that, frankly, isn’t all that interesting of a natural phenomenon.
But people still travel to watch showers when they can.
I don’t know why my brain made the comparison. Brains are weird, I guess.
I found myself, that night, looking up travel and ticket options to see a real one, though. Because I couldn’t quite get it out of my mind.
16. crater
The old woman was sitting at a table by herself, a tablet in front of her.
It’s hard to describe what she was like. I couldn’t tell you what she looked like, or anything, and I was her waitress. Other than she had dark, dark eyes.
But she wasn’t unmemorable. Like something you can’t help but see, and notice, and remember, but at the same time you edge around as best you can.
Like if you got too close, you’d fall in.
Kinda wish I could cultivate that vibe sometimes, to be honest. If there had been anything at all about her that said she’d be willing to talk (and I hadn’t been, you know, at work), I might have asked her for advice.
17. hard vacuum
There wasn’t anything about her that I could really describe as hard. She was like any other preteen kid, picking up candy and soda and other things her parents might not approve of with whatever allowance or babysitting money she’d saved.
Kind of the opposite of hard, really. Slight and delicate.
But she had these green eyes, and there was this sort of…I hate to say ‘aura,’ because that’s so damn cringey but. I can’t think of a better word.
Like I was surrounded by her, with only a thin barrier of skin--or like the atmosphere domes they still use in some of the more frontier settlements--between me and destruction.
No idea where that came from. Like I said, she was just a kid, like any other, buying candy.
And yet.
18. solar system
The four of them, they fit together. Like they’d grown up together, or been dragged out of the primordial ooze--or space dust--all at the same time.
Which was, you know, a ridiculous thought, I knew that as soon as I’d had it. The old lady had to be like a hundred, the kid probably wasn’t in high school yet, none of them looked at all alike, but.
They just…something about the way they moved, the way they turned to each other, it was just. Seamless.
God, how I wished I could be part of a group like that.
19. orbit
I don’t really think of myself as the center of the universe. Nowhere near that arrogant. But I do run a…roadside inn, for lack of a better term, where people tend to stop. So I see a lot of the same ones, on their way to and from wherever they’re going, circling back over and over again.
The four of them aren’t really an exception, even if they’ve only been by twice. Not enough for me to figure out their pattern.
But I remembered them. Three adult women (though one of them was barely an adult and possibly shouldn’t have counted) and one girl.
They were polite, fond of each other, but didn’t invite conversation. They shouldn’t have been memorable, really, none of them seemed like anything special on the surface, against the crowd of regular and one-time guests. Especially not on what was only their second visit.
I kept my eye on them, though. Just a feeling, really. That, like so many others, I’d be seeing them again.
20. the final frontier
Everything was pain.
I was conscious of a few little things, even through that; the cold, hard, damp surface of the alley below me; the faintly shimmering stars above, flickering in and out of focus.
My heartbeat.
Footsteps, coming my way.
I tried to turn in their direction; tried to call for help; but my body wouldn’t obey me.
She stepped into view. Young and pretty, with dark brown hair and ghost-pale eyes.
Are you…help me. Please.
That’s why I’m here. But not in the way you think.
She sat down beside me, crossing her legs.
…oh. Oh.
It’ll be all right.
But I’m not--finished.
No one ever is. Not really.
She smiled, and held out her hand. It’s okay. You don’t have to cross alone. I’m here.
The stars above wavered again, dim, hazy.
You’re here.
I’m here.
I closed my eyes, let out one last breath, and reached out with a shaking hand that was suddenly weightless.
My hand landed in hers; she squeezed it once, gently, and I felt her stand up, ready to guide me on to--
Where?
My eyes were still closed, but I could feel her response.
All she gave me was a smile.
Story: The Horsemen Ride
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Outer Space Saturation
Supplies and Materials: saturation, graffiti (Space Month: Challenges Pioneer and Sputnik), resin
Word Count: 2587
Rating: PG-13/R
Characters: Rubika, Imi, Shane, Dimana
Warnings: References to war/violence/plague/etc. Minor character death.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Just under the wire, as I so often am...anyway, a series of Outsider POV snapshots of the Horsemen as Entities. Could I get a color tag for Outer Space, please?
1. black hole
I guess everyone has things they want, or need, or think they need. And I guess that the line between that and obsession is thinner than we like to think.
There was this old woman, walking through the streets. Like any other grandmother, really, but something--there was something about her that kept catching my eye, whenever my path crossed hers. And I wanted--I needed--I thought I needed--something.
I don’t know.
By the time she approached me, I think I would have told her anything, really. If it would help me figure out what that something was.
2. constellation
They looked like a family, really. Well, none of them look much alike, but the feel of them, that was family.
Four--or maybe three and a half--generations, sitting together in the café, talking. Laughing. Happy.
It was the funniest thing, though. When I was looking right at them, there was something special, you know? But it was like the more I looked at them, the more my eyes fought me to move on to something else. To look away.
And when I did, I just remembered them as a family.
3. asteroid
There was a sense of impact when she walked in.
Maybe it was just--the way she carried herself. That confidence. Her beauty. Some people are just like that.
But still, something in me whispered--something’s gonna happen.
She made her way to the bar, got a drink. She turned in my direction and raised her glass; I flushed and looked away.
She headed for the card tables, and far as I could tell, things went the same as always. Maybe a real good or bad night for some, but these things happen.
And then she left. And that was that.
I never saw her again.
4. planet
My world had had a lot of problems over the last few years. Shady elections, bad harvests, you name it, it happened.
And then the four of them in their little ship dropped by.
It was probably a coincidence. Humans are like that, we like to look for Reasons and a Single Cause for things. It’s why the ancients were so obsessed with omens and astrology and things like that, I think.
But if I had to pick a turning point, I think it was that day. The day the three women and the little girl, nothing special really, just people, stopped by to refuel and resupply on their way to wherever the hell they were going.
It was almost as if they took the conflict and all its consequences away with them when they went.
Which is ridiculous, of course. Just my human brain looking for meaning in a universe that doesn’t really have all that much.
It’s a nice story, though, isn’t it?
5. star
She seemed--not solid, exactly, but very there, if that makes sense? Permanent.
She was the youngest of the three adults in the group, but the others seemed to turn to her. Like they were planets and she was their star.
She was as remote and beautiful as a star, too, I thought. I mean, I don’t usually pay that much attention to the pilots fueling up at the station, that’s not really my job, but there was something about her. Something pretty and permanent and constant, and very real--but maybe far away.
6. white dwarf
I couldn’t get the little girl out of my head. The sense of loss, of legacy, of something ancient, behind those soft green eyes.
She’d been alone; sitting on a bench, tracing patterns along the armrest with her fingers. And, sure, she wasn’t that little, I suppose; twelve or thirteen; and it was only a few minutes before her--sister, cousin, maybe mother?--joined her and they left together. No real need to worry.
She just seemed…fragile. And, well. Lost.
When things started to go wrong, I thought about that little girl.
I was glad she’d left before it happened.
7. supernova
In hindsight, it’s kind of dumb, really. They were four ordinary people, on a mostly-ordinary ship (it wasn’t high-end high-end, but it was nice, and had some pretty neat aftermarket additions).
But at the same time, when they passed through, I had the strangest feeling that this was a once-in-a-lifetime event. A flare of…something magnificent and wild and maybe a little dangerous.
Which is ridiculous, like I said. But at the same time, I couldn’t really shake it.
And I know the universe doesn’t work like that, but…even now…I wonder sometimes. If I was maybe on the very fringe of something life-changing, and almost didn’t see it.
8. sun
My first impression, when the two women came into my shop, was of brilliance.
Not…not necessarily a good thing.
The older one, she was like…high noon in a desert; inescapable thirst, blinding light.
The other, middle-aged and charming, more gave the impression if you looked too close, or too long, you’d regret it.
They were polite, though. Despite that raw edge of blinding light, they were among the more decent customers I’ve had.
Still, I’m not ashamed to admit I was just a little bit relieved when the door closed behind them on their way out.
9. moon
She seemed ordinary, really; like any other young woman browsing through the market, chatting on the phone with someone--maybe her mother, almost certainly someone she hadn’t seen for a while. The gloves were a little odd, it was warm enough here to need them, but twenty-something is an age where people play with fashion.
Except.
I caught a glimpse of her reflection as she passed by a window.
Of her eyes.
An unnameable color; pale and…not empty, not hollow, but…
I tripped over my own two feet, drawing her attention; she turned and looked at me quizzically.
Trick of the light; or the shadows on the glass. Her eyes were blue. Very, very pale blue, not really matching the rest of her coloring but. Maybe contacts. Fashion choice. Right.
I flashed her a quick smile, waved my hand to say I was all right, and quickly made my way elsewhere.
It was a long time before I forgot those eyes, floating in the dark glass.
10. rings
Her jewelry first caught my attention.
She drew attention to her in general, which normally would have made her not worth the risk. I’ve been doing this for a while, and I’m not stupid.
Jewelry is a pain in the ass to fence, anyway.
Maybe there was just something in the air, pushing people to take risks; bet big; call bluffs. There did seem to be a lot more bickering than usual.
So I figured, what the hell.
Until I worked my way almost close enough to slip in and take what I could. And she glanced down at me, not like a threat, but that she knew I was there.
Those red-haze eyes had me backing away in a hurry.
Some risks are not worth taking.
11. galaxy
It’s funny, you know, all the little things that link people together across the universe.
I could’ve sworn the old lady looked like my cousin. Or, well, technically my cousin’s wife, and technically my third cousin twice removed or something like that.
And it could be possible. That she was--related to my cousin-in-law, who had a huge family, anyway.
But I don’t know. Possible family resemblance aside, there was something that made it feel unlikely.
She did look familiar though, I would swear to that. It took me a long time--days after she left, in fact--to peel that thought out of my head and move on.
12. nebula
It’s not often that something sneaks up on me.
I mean, it’s my job not to let that happen. Basically a glorified lighthouse operator for the 30th century, peering into the clouds of gasses and space dust, guiding people through to safety.
So when the little ship appeared, drifting into and then out of view like one of the ghost ships of ancient stories, it threw me.
Maybe I’d just been on duty for too long. There were four of us; working rotating shifts for two weeks before we were relieved by the next crew, and this was my last shift before a two-week break. It wasn’t unheard of to have false positives and Weird Shit happen at times like that.
It had just never happened to me before.
But I’m a professional, so I shook it off, and went back to watching for actual danger.
I kept an eye out for the little ship, though. Just in case.
13. cluster
You’d think with the advent of space travel, traffic jams would be less of a thing but no. At least around the major ports and trading posts, a few of the better-established cities, you’ll still spend what feels like days on end, waiting. Inching forward.
Lucky me, I work in the port, so I can’t even avoid it and find longer but less frustrating ways to get where I need to go.
Ugh.
For the most part, the days blur together, but this morning--it was weird. My attention kept getting drawn to a not-so-special little ship, like the kind used by private couriers. I don’t know why. Like I said, it was nothing special. Just inching along with the rest of us, going about its business, whatever that might be.
Eh, I was probably just bored, and the light reflected off it just the right way at just the right time or something. These things happen.
Wish I could remember any identifying details, though. Might’ve been fun to look it up when I got into work.
Just to see if there really was something there.
14. comet
I didn’t see anything, really. Just this very strong impression of rage, the kind of rage only something small and wounded can feel.
A pair of green eyes in the darkness; a swirling trail following them as they flashed out of sight.
Cold, and isolation, and all that was left behind.
The whole thing was over as soon as it started, and I shook it off. Or tried to, anyway.
Weirdest damn thing I’d ever felt.
And, even three drinks later, the afterimage kept flashing every time I closed my eyes.
15. meteorite
I grew up on Earth, and, a couple times, I was lucky enough to catch a meteor shower. (I know they’re better on Charon or some other worlds, but there’s something about being able to say I saw one from Earth that gets me attention at parties).
Anyway, when I saw the four of them--the old woman; the middle-aged one; the young one; the girl--for some reason, I thought of those meteor showers when I was a little boy. Blazing across the sky, drawing all kinds of attention and granted a whole lot of meaning for something that, frankly, isn’t all that interesting of a natural phenomenon.
But people still travel to watch showers when they can.
I don’t know why my brain made the comparison. Brains are weird, I guess.
I found myself, that night, looking up travel and ticket options to see a real one, though. Because I couldn’t quite get it out of my mind.
16. crater
The old woman was sitting at a table by herself, a tablet in front of her.
It’s hard to describe what she was like. I couldn’t tell you what she looked like, or anything, and I was her waitress. Other than she had dark, dark eyes.
But she wasn’t unmemorable. Like something you can’t help but see, and notice, and remember, but at the same time you edge around as best you can.
Like if you got too close, you’d fall in.
Kinda wish I could cultivate that vibe sometimes, to be honest. If there had been anything at all about her that said she’d be willing to talk (and I hadn’t been, you know, at work), I might have asked her for advice.
17. hard vacuum
There wasn’t anything about her that I could really describe as hard. She was like any other preteen kid, picking up candy and soda and other things her parents might not approve of with whatever allowance or babysitting money she’d saved.
Kind of the opposite of hard, really. Slight and delicate.
But she had these green eyes, and there was this sort of…I hate to say ‘aura,’ because that’s so damn cringey but. I can’t think of a better word.
Like I was surrounded by her, with only a thin barrier of skin--or like the atmosphere domes they still use in some of the more frontier settlements--between me and destruction.
No idea where that came from. Like I said, she was just a kid, like any other, buying candy.
And yet.
18. solar system
The four of them, they fit together. Like they’d grown up together, or been dragged out of the primordial ooze--or space dust--all at the same time.
Which was, you know, a ridiculous thought, I knew that as soon as I’d had it. The old lady had to be like a hundred, the kid probably wasn’t in high school yet, none of them looked at all alike, but.
They just…something about the way they moved, the way they turned to each other, it was just. Seamless.
God, how I wished I could be part of a group like that.
19. orbit
I don’t really think of myself as the center of the universe. Nowhere near that arrogant. But I do run a…roadside inn, for lack of a better term, where people tend to stop. So I see a lot of the same ones, on their way to and from wherever they’re going, circling back over and over again.
The four of them aren’t really an exception, even if they’ve only been by twice. Not enough for me to figure out their pattern.
But I remembered them. Three adult women (though one of them was barely an adult and possibly shouldn’t have counted) and one girl.
They were polite, fond of each other, but didn’t invite conversation. They shouldn’t have been memorable, really, none of them seemed like anything special on the surface, against the crowd of regular and one-time guests. Especially not on what was only their second visit.
I kept my eye on them, though. Just a feeling, really. That, like so many others, I’d be seeing them again.
20. the final frontier
Everything was pain.
I was conscious of a few little things, even through that; the cold, hard, damp surface of the alley below me; the faintly shimmering stars above, flickering in and out of focus.
My heartbeat.
Footsteps, coming my way.
I tried to turn in their direction; tried to call for help; but my body wouldn’t obey me.
She stepped into view. Young and pretty, with dark brown hair and ghost-pale eyes.
Are you…help me. Please.
That’s why I’m here. But not in the way you think.
She sat down beside me, crossing her legs.
…oh. Oh.
It’ll be all right.
But I’m not--finished.
No one ever is. Not really.
She smiled, and held out her hand. It’s okay. You don’t have to cross alone. I’m here.
The stars above wavered again, dim, hazy.
You’re here.
I’m here.
I closed my eyes, let out one last breath, and reached out with a shaking hand that was suddenly weightless.
My hand landed in hers; she squeezed it once, gently, and I felt her stand up, ready to guide me on to--
Where?
My eyes were still closed, but I could feel her response.
All she gave me was a smile.