shipwreck_light: Portrait of Roa by DoroDraws. (Roa)
Shipwreck Light ([personal profile] shipwreck_light) wrote in [community profile] rainbowfic2012-01-25 07:08 pm

Lawn Green #12

Author: SWL
Story: Jealous of Roses, Arc 1 Box of Rings
Colors: Lawn Green #12- The Longest Day
Supplies and Materials: Portrait
Word Count: 5,500ish
Summary: Roa's skill assessment. Takes place a few days before "...but most people dun wanna know that."
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence. I do not kid around with the violence.
Criticism: If any bugs have hampered your enjoyment of this installment, please let me know about them. PMs preferred to this end.

Siebenkas thought that evening, as he had off and on through the years, about how the others and their reactions to Pip and Zephyr always split on the same lines. Some people went out of their ways not to come down skin to skin with them. Of course, in close quarters, failure was inevitable. Then the cringing and the redoubling of efforts to keep out of their range of motion. At least until the next time. The rest? The allure of touching something so much different than themselves took over at some point and they looked with their fingers at all the silvery lines the evokers wore.

At least, that was why he'd stopped himself from moving halfway across the room from those two, but that was a long way off in other summers and the night it happened or stopped happening anyway, he'd told himself he had no choice. Seine and Ambra still kept a front. Nene never had one. The bird didn't know better.

He wondered what Roa would do. He found her standing in the hall outside the common room where Nene and Pip and Sophie were doing... something. It involved colored string and no shoes. Roa watched from a distance where it would have been uncomfortable to call out to her.

He came to her side, dragging his feet to make sure she heard him. "Are you ready to head out?"

"Well, I can't get any more ready than I am," she replied.

In the end, the distance between them and the common room didn't serve as any deterrent. Two giggles and a squawk, tangled arms over the back of the couch, and Pip's face with a sticker on one cheek. "I wanna go on a date for solstice. I can come too, riiiiight?"

"Spring rolls," rejoined the parrot.

Siebenkas had heard this one before. "This is a training exercise. Not a date."

"And if it *was* a date," Roa added, "We definitely wouldn't bring anyone else."

"An you're not, so is totally a date. Can't fool me." She made a little whistle which Zephyr added to from the next room. Laughed too.

"Yeah, yeah," Nene cut in, ruffling the girl's hair. "But dates don't usually involve maiming. Not sure if that'd make thisun a hot date or a lousy date."

"It's not a date. It's an assessment," Siebenkas insisted, though he regretted his choice of words almost at once. New courtiers did not need to know he'd be reporting to Duclos after their first assignments. Certainly, they would figure it out after, but the terminology used could skew things out of their favors. Or result in endless nervous pees that saw him stranded in far too many public restrooms for one night.

Nothing in Roa's bearing changed. She hadn't even frowned. "It just happens to be on solstice, which you happen to think is romantic. Personally, I have an urge to start a bonfire."

Siebenkas thought that those were plenty romantic in and of themselves, and that putting one on solstice was just asking for trouble. But, he said- "If it's the violent sort of bonfire, keep that in mind."

"Bonfire sounds nice," declare Pip, rounding on Nene with quite a few strings and also some stray parrot feathers. "Can we have one?"

"Dunno." Nene rubbed her markery knuckles over her chin and left a purple smear behind. "The fan over the stove still work?"

"Let's find out!"

The bird made a mimic of their cheer. That was a cue to exit if Siebenkas had ever heard one. "We should go."

"Yes," Roa agreed.

Though as she moved past him, and he after her, there came one last shout from Nene. "OK, you guys. Enjoy your date!"

Siebenkas sighed.

Though it had gotten closer to seven than not, the elevator down to the lobby still flooded with low sun that had their shadows flickering over the empty halls. He stayed near doors, hands resting on the rail. Roa stood as if atop a widow's walk, watching as they sank to street level, the towers of Sky Plaza reaching away to the clouds.

He took the quiet to say, "You're overdressed. It doesn't bother me, but it might bother you later."

Roa wore a sundress in lavender crystal pleats. When she moved, tattoos peered out from beneath the hem. Her sandals fastened around her ankles and there were tanzanite flower clusters in her ears, some artistic tangle that took up both piercings. Her purse a tiny holographic clutch. "Well," she said. "This isn't conspicuous and the sateen won't stain easily."

"You still might ruin it."

"That's not worth worrying about."

He nodded. It wasn't, and besides, she could have done a hell of a lot worse. "What did you bring?"

Roa clasped her hands behind her back, stretching at her shoulders, which made it look somewhat natural as she turned from the window to pull her skirt up. She'd gotten one of the good thigh scabbards that fastened around her waist too. And a pearly pink switchblade.

Hard to take seriously, but he'd seen people killed with less. "Have you ever used one before?"

"I've been practicing," she told him, swishing her skirt back into place as the chime rang for the ground floor. "And I watched a video. Well, two. The first one wasn't very good. I couldn't see anyone's feet."

"Alright." And that too was better than some new courtiers did. He thought back to Seine, but then the doors started to open. He hit the close button, and the pause service Duclos had put in underneath the rail. Elevators were a hassle to bug, especially glass ones. Sometimes, you didn't want anyone else you lived with to know you were having a discussion. Besides the drama of it. Duclos had probably agreed to the button only for that reason.

"So, the test run," Or, whatever they were calling. "You have from sundown to sunup. Pick someone out and teach them. "

"With the knife. I can do that."

"If you can't hurt a stranger for a good reason, how do you expect to carry out your orders for no reason other than they're you're orders?" Not that she had asked, but it didn't add up at first for most of them- hurt anyone you want for whatever reason you can find.

Roa though huffed, "That's a grim way to look at it. Orders? I prefer to think of this as my job. You're my co-workers and Duclos is my boss."

"That's alright too."

And before he could get to anything more- "I'm ready."

There is always someone who needs hurt. It pays to be observant. The new ones had to learn these things, especially the last, even if he never told them what they were really doing.

Roa paused on the steps, out of the shadow of the lobby doors and Sky Plaza One itself, the only still figure in the sunken golden evening. Scenting the air perhaps, or chasing down her instincts for what came next. He waited at a distance for her to catch what she wanted on the rush of all the voices, sounds, gravity. He hated to admit- how enchanted he was in that moment, watching her decide which way. He should be more objective about these things and it shouldn't matter that she took out her phone to see what it had to say on the matter. She swept off northwards after that.

Siebenkas followed, three steps behind where people could still cut between them as the crowd grew thicker and the sidewalks narrower. "We might be able to find a bonfire."

She had that distant seriousness her eyes, how she got when she played the harp. It made her smile seem false against the rest of her. "I'd like that. But, if we don't, it's beautiful out."

Personally, he thought it was nasty hot. A stillness clung to the air besides that got worse down in the streets or through swells of people.

This was not his idea of a celebration, of summer at all. Roa hadn't said as much, but she didn't have to- she'd never been out in anything like Solstice, or walked those wards of the city for long at all. The blue and orange vidfilm banners from the hung from the streetlights still had some power to draw her in.

People would stop chatting to stare at her, drawn in by her purpose moving through the fair atmosphere. She was not the only Wa'eki out that night, and only a fool would have thought as much of her in the middle of a celebration so close to the heart of the city. One pavilion had dancers, but they moved nothing like Roa and more of them were white children than anything else. She didn't even seem to see them, and their music had been drowned out by other sounds.

There were wights. Mostly humans, but wights still. The ordinary sort that could nibble the jubilee treats if they wanted to. He wondered if any of them noticed how people made way for them, or if they'd been conditioned not to. How else did they live with themselves? Well and graciously, but that was how things went and wights had no choice regardless.

A lot of vendors had permits for torches, citronella lost in the smoke of the food stalls or flanking stages. People in yukata with bags of goldfish around their wrists filled one byway, making the best of their early Seventh of the Seventh and trying not to tip the cat masks perched on the sides of their heads. Real fish filled shallow pools between the stalls-someone was going to get in trouble for that again this year, but someone always did. Roa stopped to peer into one basin of orange plumes.

"It's five tickets a play," said the old man minding the water. "And y'know, if you can catch one of the ones with the funny eyes, that's an extra prize."

"I'm going somewhere right now," said Roa, stirring the surface with her fingertip so that the fish darted away. "So, maybe later."

"I bet you are," he grinned, but that was the end of it, at least until Siebenkas passed over where she had been. "You her handler or what?"

He rounded on him, quiet still but spreading a big, dark splotch over where he sat.

A grin spread over the old man's mouth as he lifted a cigarette there, not a care in the world for Siebenkas. "She's a dancer, right? And if she's not, well..."

"Yes," he came to say. "She's a dancer."

"Don't let her get away."

Siebenkas spun to catch where Roa had gone, but he did not see her and so strode that way to where he'd last seen her, out of other hands with fans and wishes for goldfish. He had to shove past people to catch up with her- she hadn't gone far, only to the curtains of a booth with cold sake for sale in paper cups- sitting there without a drink, much to the stare of the owner and the one other customer, her phone clicking away on the bar.

"If you do want to stop for a little," he mentioned.

"Maybe later. Like I said."

The night was young and the sky just starting to touch off dark. He didn't hurry her. Besides, the assholes usually came out after midnight.

Roa smiled back at him from her seat until the conflux had thinned from couples arm-in-arm to wanderers trying not to talk to one another and one guy in a yellow plaid shirt swinging a yard of beer. She turned to leave the street from the way they had come, going down the wrong side of the sidewalk from the other foot traffic until the drift took them to where someone long gone in the crowd had careless parked a car along the curb.

They turned off somewhere that opened up into different drums and children with sparklers chasing each other along chains of paper rings. A black and white movie played on a film screen over a strand of loungers full of strangers in bathing suits who'd brought their pillows for resting skyward in the middle of the throng. People in costumes gathered on one side, trying to work out who would go where in their photoshoot, now before the sky got too close to night for a backdrop.

Siebenkas hoped they weren't supposed to be characters from any video game. No one could have fought *well* with so many ornaments hanging from their clothes. They hadn't interested Roa at all- besides the fish, the only thing that had really gotten her so far was the funnel cakes with their sweet and greasy smell that left a line winding between exhibits of rescued dogs and firework vendors whose signs that their wares were not to be set off on the sidewalk had gone unheeded- someone launched a green pinwheel right over the crowd.

The person who'd done it was a hardly older than Pip. It was stupid, yes, but it wasn't worth a training exercise . Besides all of the work it would have been, spending that night in pursuit of some brat who had friends and other business on Solstice.

He and Roa were the only two who didn't flinch, but watched the sparks speed over with the downbeat for songs catching in the background, sometimes masters of one ceremony or another; the chime of Roa's phone. She did have that on, and he had some mind to tell her vibrate or silent was a better choice, but he would be the only one to hear it more than once. There were real bands out now, not only recordings and people who played halting over drums by someone else.

The smell of the sake and the heat rise of the evening had stirred his senses. The waltz did more than that. It stuck him through to the marrow, until his want to flow after the notes got so vivid piercing that he stopped. Just stopped right there on the margin of people unsure if they were watching or joining in. They might only have been kids playing, but they weren't bad. They were better than some of the adults back the other way and the fireworks shouts didn't throw them off much.

Roa's hand settled on his shoulder. "My turn to ask. Do you want to dance?"

"Yes, I do. But... do you know how?" It was a silly question. For Roa, anyway.

He was glad that she laughed. "Waltzes are easy."

He still had a chance to turn her down, time enough to tell her that tonight was not for dancing and goldfish were just a contradiction he'd made to put her at ease. Then, she took his hand and he couldn't pretend there any longer. They stepped together to the pavement the other dancers had taken. Their fingers laced and his free hand slid around her waist, her balancing herself against him in much the same way.

She gave him one measure to sway, gauge the tempo of the band. That and only that before they whirled under the streetlight, flickering past the last broken up hint of blue in the sky beyond the sails put up to keep the children and the revelers out of the rain that hadn't happened.

A lot came back to him in those first few steps- muscle memory of other waltzes and the way his shoulders would tighten, as if he was one of- what had she said? -'kauhe' too and could keep from slamming into the others just on that instinct. Well, it was an instinct, only a different kind. Not that it mattered- he knew from the start that she lead him. He didn't feel clumsy following after her sway, as seldom and as badly as he'd done it in the past. The way she moved. He felt like he became a worthier dance partner for having danced at all with Roa.

Besides the idea. A Wa'eki woman who took to waltzes instead of whatever Wa'eki did on Solstice besides bonfires. If they danced at all for that.

Roa did at least. Seriously too. Her phone rang twice. She didn't even move to quiet it down, but traced the pale notes with her movements until her skirt had sailed into him and he caught himself spun off of her fingers like so many music notes of her own before back to her side and nearly through another couple in his fizzing grasp of the situation. He got the impression though, settling back to her, that she wouldn't cast him out too far if that could spoil the waltz.

One song was all he'd wanted and one song was all she gave him. The applause after was not for them, but he bowed to her just the same, since he'd been taught in his life before that it was the most polite thing to do. She smiled and returned the gesture. Which wasn't how it was supposed to go, but he accepted it for what it was: a compliment and full of grace.

After, they lingered some while as Roa checked her phone and the band began a number calling for more complicated steps. The sound stilled called out to him, but he could let it go now. Maybe he had some stock in what she'd said before- it really was too nice a night for this, why they'd gone out at all.

He wondered where she would go next. There was a drag show a few intersections down. The people working it were always gorgeous and the hecklers easy pickings for all manner of lessons. The cops would be useless and elsewhere. He thought he might suggest that if she kept up much longer with the phone. Trawling the alcohol gardens made for another good choice, though one that would have them sitting at a plastic table doing their best to make a five dollar beer last the hour between them so neither came off too drunk to watch the other. Or, in the most fanciful turns of all evenings in their future, they could move from dance to dance, since there would be more elsewhere.

A familiar yard of beer swept furtive between onlookers, but those could have been all over the place, snuck out and sampled into the festival proper where the people who got walked into were sober enough to complain.

Roa glanced through his clear in the crowd. He saw something yellow flash against her phone before she put it away. She cut across the background of the dancers without a word, only a gesture that he follow.

Which he did as things slid together in his mind. That man he'd seen before had a phone too, and was typing on it, careless as he swayed between shoves. Soon after he put his away, Roa's chimed.

Siebenkas leaned in to ask her, "Are you stalking the man in the yellow shirt with your phone?"

Roa didn't answer until they had stepped up on the far sidewalk, a few feet from the person in question, though a dozen voices intervened between theirs and his raspy laughter. "Zephyr said that's how you give the test, so I picked someone out beforehand."

Zephyr was going to get a talking to. Or, a kick in the pants. On second thought, absolutely a kick in the pants. He might understand /that/.

"And besides, it's not stalking if he's telling everyone where he is. I'm part of everyone. I'm just listening."

He couldn't catch the tone of her words through the cascade sound, only that there were words at all, the thought then of how his expression must have darkened. "You don't have to explain yourself. I don't care who you pick or how you do it, it's just..."

"He's moving again and you're in my way."

Siebenkas staggered against a fence the township had put up in a desperate bid to keep revelers out of a private parking lot. People had already jumped it to sit behind the slats and smoke. The man in the yellow shirt was not one of them. He'd turned off, absently swinging the remains of his yard.

Roa followed him- three steps after and Siebenkas that much off from her, though in all the people waiting for their dances and their sparklers and their paper plates, that seemed a rough distance.

The longest day still carried some violet flush above the tower finials, clouds visible in whirls against the clear night space. From down on the streets, the city itself seemed misty and orange, talking over itself besides with that thrum, and that MC and all those people not knowing where they went.

The man in the yellow shirt; Roa and Siebenkas. Everything moved compass-wise between the three, his lead shaky and balanced only on the fact that they followed. There might be drinking terraces out the way he'd gone, but he didn't know where he was going anymore. It was all over the way he walked.

Roa stopped, gave Siebenkas a soft look, and departed from where he'd come to wait, further off on the sidewalk shore. A space had cleared between her and the man. She dashed through and put herself around his arm. "I don't believe this. Lonnie! How've you been?"

The yard of beer made for the first casualty of her laughter. It fell from Lonnie's grasp and nothing leaked from it. If he was a Lonnie though, he didn't object to that, or Roa smiling bubbly at his shoulder. "Oh hey... you. What's up?"

"Of all the days of all the year I'm in town and here you are too. I mean, /right here/."

"Where else would I be? There's beer! There's music! They both suck, but they're cheap as hell," he laughed to the people shoving past, his shoulder stiffening somewhat as Roa, in her own gentle sounds of amusement, slid closer.

What she said after Siebenkas didn't catch. It came as a whisper and not for his ears, her lips all but on Lonnie's stubble.

"Oh yourself," he crowed to her. "I dropped my drink and it's so totally your fault."

"I'll fix it, I'll fix it. Hee. You do remember who I am, right?"

"The name part, no. But, now, there're other things we gotta take into consideration."

Some pressure passed between her figure and his. Now, he walked, her sandals instants ahead of his steps despite how close she remained at his side.

"'m thinkin' Luau. Kanapali Beach. Two spring breaks ago."

"So you think my name's Kanapali just like I think *your* name's Kanapali, except I don't."

"Uh, what?"

"Of course that was me. Told you I was a nasty girl." The counter came with a wink as they split another couple on the sidewalk, one half of it bobbing each way past the colored lights of a stall display- more masks, though these were paper and swept after butterflies. Roa and Lonnie almost could have been alone out there, as fastened as they'd become, Roa brushing off the peacock feather their careless wander put along her hair.

"And that's why I remember," said Lonnie, self-assured.

"You. So, which way to the cheap beer? Maybe I owe you two. Or three."

"Now, we're gettin' somewhere." As much as they'd moved, far as they'd come, he'd not done more to show his appreciation for her nearness than let her cling to his arm. Lonnie's other hand drummed on his jeans and his shirt began to come down on the far shoulder.

She didn't even have to tell him she knew a shortcut. He just kept walking, not sensing the drag of her stride leading his own subtle along or the change in the music.

Drums from one side. Classic rock the other with lights and smoke, the dissonance between the two. Beautiful in its own reason for what else where was to do that night besides sing through one more solstice where the signs were asking for people who had lost their children and mentioning shows starting at midnight.

Roa and Lonnie jumped one of the fences, easier than if it hadn't been there at all. There were no dark corridors left anywhere in the city, but there were these romantic halflight wells full of blown out feathers and glitter and errant shouts.

Only as she drew away from him did he finally seem to realize what he'd had on his arm for the last few blocks, and then his lips would not close.

Roa fell once against his chest, swirling off in her skirts after, waiting for the chase that never came. "What're you doing?" if he asked himself or her, well that was gone in the crash of two songs reaching their ends. "Look, I just wanna..."

"I lied," she told him, voice caught charming on a touch of a giggle. "You don't know who I am, but I know who you are."

Her voice behind him now. At first, it didn't seem to touch on him, and he stood there scrubbing at his face with his knuckles. Not until he saw Siebenkas shadowed against the store window glare.

Lonnie never got that far. He sprinted left, the most obvious path through the cars, falling over his own sneakers and into someone's bumper. Even if he hadn't snagged himself that way, Roa passed nimble after his heels. His fall only put him smaller than her now, down on his knees on the pavement.

She still struck him in the back and the rest of the way down to her feet. Maybe he got out half a scream before her sandal caught him on the base of the skull and he got all smashed out lips and bloody nose. The second kick broke at least one of his teeth- he had gravel rolling out of his mouth when she dragged him back up and put her fist into his diaphragm for good measure. Spit and the beer left in his stomach welled out of the mess of his mouth. Roa waited until he'd finished. And got out the knife, pressing the latch mere inches from his face.

The blade was glass. She stuck it through his cheek and pulled. His jerk away at the last got him into a car door which in turn caught most of his blood. The next swing she threatened went wide, but still left him cowering, these slick whimpers pouring from him.

He got perhaps a second to himself to lie there and bleed before she moved in to finish, cutting his yellow shirt open from the back, deep enough that she got into the rise of his spine on the first swipe. The second followed slow, ticking over the bones.

Roa could have said something before the last blow, but she was counting. Could have laughed or made some show of knowing right where she was on his body. But, no, she just stuck him, right in the middle of the place she'd sorted out. Not only once. The wound in the end looked like a bullet blown into his back.

Lonnie didn't move anymore once she'd finished.

Roa dropped the phone by his head anyway.

As she walked away, she split the covers on her hands- the seams hadn't even started to show, but a few deft movements and she had them off, the membranes that filmy peach-blue they got after being stripped off. Most of the blood on her dress had fallen where the halter crossed over itself. She redid the two halves the other way round, hitching the mars of her skirt into the knots so that only a few drops of what could have been wine remained. The dress was somewhat smaller by the time she finished with it and she had nothing underneath.

It didn't change the way she moved. Back to the fair and the night that still wasn't quite there.

They walked. She still lead. Not too many blocks before Sky Plaza One started to come out between these other buildings and the sounds of sirens, distant behind them. Of course there were sirens. Someone might have fallen off a stage or drunk too much or burned themselves. That might have been all it was, instead of anything to do with Lonnie.

He thought he could smell the sake again. It was in that drift of senses that Roa whirled to a stop, someone with her arms full of baggies of goldfish between her and Siebenkas. All three of them and all the fish startled in the sparkler glisten. The woman hurried away, which left him and Roa paving stones apart.

She had her head bowed, but she was smiling that silky, distant way she had when she first lead him down the stairs. "I can't wait anymore. Can you tell me, or does Duclos have to know first?"

"Not here," though even as he said it he knew- no one could hear them amongst the others. They would sound like ordinary people out this way. Still, he had to take some measure of precaution

It wasn't too far to a fountain, dancing naiads with funnel cake wrappers and the fake pennies sold just for carnival wishes. Not too many lovers. They stood with the edges and talked to the sound of the water instead of each other.

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Tonight is the first time I've hurt another person. Unless wrestling with cousins counts. I'm guessing it doesn't."

"How do you think you did?"

"I was sloppy and took too long. I had no confidence in my actions. It's unacceptable."

"That man will never be right again."

"Good. That's something."

"Roa, you don't understand." Why had he said her name? It seemed to have spilled there. "That's not what..."

Where she didn't quite seem more than part of the fountain herself, lit up blue from underneath. The nymphs though had a clearness to them, and their eyes were empty. Roa looked like she might shudder away. Close to crushed. Scared. Of him. Well, he hated to think what he looked like. Even his ghost in the water shot full of some kind of sick wonder.

He didn't know how else to ask her. So, he said gentle instead, as he stepped onto the granite rim of the pool before them. "Here. Do what I do."

What came next was one of his old country dances- something that belonged on a bar table after a few pints of beer. His feet remembered this too, but he had to go into his head for the music. Violins just out of tune and maybe someone on the accordion who almost knew how to play. The drums of other people's steins and fists together between friends. But now, it was him the solstice wanderers looked into, one handful passing by and thinking his drunk or very stupid.

He paid them no mind.

Roa got up on the slippery side with him. Her steps fell in with his. Her sandals sailed on the stone. The beat followed into her movements, steadier than he'd kept it. And when he gave pause to start again from the first, it came out as if they'd planned it- the way she spun and started over through the first dart of their dance, though she matched them with a whirl he hadn't played and kept her hands in a mirror of his own. He would cock his hips one way to the jig and she wouldn't even follow. She would already have come to that motion- the most natural thing in the world.

He felt it again. That he was keeping up with her.

Only then did he reach his hand out to her.

She took it, and she said. "And now, now what?"

"We go back to the manor. We're finished. And you did..." he had to catch himself. Someone was still clapping out there and he thought he heard a whistle. That was what he couldn't give her. "...just fine."

AN: Glass will hold a superior cutting edge compared to metal if properly manufactured and treated. Annealed glass can be thrown onto a stone floor without breaking. So, why don't we as a society use glass for all of our cutting purposes? It takes significantly longer to make a glass knife compared to a metal knife and well, they are still breakable. The fact remains that the edge of a metal knife looks like a saw verses the edge of a glass knife if you put them both under an electron microscope. And switchblades totally come in pink.

bookblather: A picture of Yomiko Readman looking at books with the text "bookgasm." (Default)

[personal profile] bookblather 2012-01-26 05:35 am (UTC)(link)
I love love love the contrast between the festival atmosphere and Roa's deadly purpose. The almost-aimless wandering at the beginning slots nicely into the violence which slots nicely into the end; you really made this flow, like a violet scarf with a big splotch of blood right in the middle. Wonderful job.
subluxate: Sophia Bush leaning against a piano (Default)

[personal profile] subluxate 2012-01-26 06:56 am (UTC)(link)
You were not kidding about the violence. And yet. Well, you read Geena's piece in which Nic asked if she could kill someone with Wolverine claws and was super-excited, so...

You did a fantastic job! I got the full sense of the Solstice festival with your description, and Roa DID do a fabulous job killing the guy, damn.
kay_brooke: Side view of a laptop with text "Being an author is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum" (writing quote)

[personal profile] kay_brooke 2012-01-26 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
I really enjoyed this glimpse into the wider world of this story, with the beautiful descriptions of the people and the celebrations. Everything about Roa has such a flow, like she is dancing all the time, even when she's hurting someone. The ending with her and Siebenkas is perfect, I think.
isana: (plum blossoms)

[personal profile] isana 2012-01-26 08:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, good God, Roa is frightening. And skilled, considering her damage is done as gracefully as she dances.

I just about loved the atmosphere you created in this, the deceptive relaxation of the festival concealing that one deadly spot underneath.