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rainbowfic2012-11-13 09:57 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2012-11-13 09:57 pm
Shadow #8, Bone #6, Arsenic #12
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Taking Action
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Shadow #8. forgery, Bone #6. body wagon, Arsenic #12. sarin gas
Supplies and Materials: pointillism, miniature collection, eraser (generation swap au), acrylic, oils, modeling clay, pastels (my current GRK card B5 "symbols"), novelty beads (If you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?/You don't know, you didn't mean to, it slipped your mind/And it feels so good to feed a habit/You're just making the most of your borrowed time/Waiting for the white light--White Light, Vienna Teng), glitter ("For all his bluster, it is the sad province of man that he cannot choose his triumph. He can only choose how he will stand when the call of destiny comes, hoping he will have the courage to answer." – Mohinder Suresh, from Heroes)
Word Count: 339
Rating: R
Characters: Mel
Warnings: Genocide
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Takes place in an alternate 981 FY, where Kellom is Sorell's father, rather than the other way around.
Mel circled 'human' on the form, even though he knew what the question meant and knew it was a lie.
He was taken to another room and left to wait for an hour.
"I apologize for this," he's told, "it's mostly a formality, but the King insists."
More and more afraid, he threw every test they put him through--he needs to be here, as far from Kit as he can get.
"Apologies again," the tester said, after approving his visa and letting him through.
He hadn't even found a place to stay yet when he saw the first bodies.
There weren't many visible, and some of those were old, old, months old, and he started to wonder if he shouldn't have found a different place to hide.
He wandered around the city for several hours, knowing he couldn't stay--it wasn't safe, and what was happening here was, if possible, worse than what he left--but not knowing how he could leave safely, either.
He decided to stay when he found an apartment with graffiti on it, signed with only a stylized rose.
As he went about the business of uneasily settling into a new life, he looked for those roses, those messages on the walls--the City Watch couldn't wash them off fast enough.
After six months, he was finally able to make contact.
When he made a globe of water in his hands, and wouldn't be talked into leaving, the suspicious operatives welcomed him.
Mel hadn't been able to help the people his brother killed--because that was, in the end, his fault--but he could help the people here, if any were still alive.
There was more to it than message, of course--extracting prisoners, attacking former handlers and executioners, finding the displayed bodies and giving them the dignity of proper burial, trying to identify them so other survivors could have peace.
When he was afraid, he repeated to himself that first graffiti he'd seen, to remind himself why he had to stay.
WE ARE ALL HUMAN.
WE WILL NOT BE BROKEN.
Story: Taking Action
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Shadow #8. forgery, Bone #6. body wagon, Arsenic #12. sarin gas
Supplies and Materials: pointillism, miniature collection, eraser (generation swap au), acrylic, oils, modeling clay, pastels (my current GRK card B5 "symbols"), novelty beads (If you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?/You don't know, you didn't mean to, it slipped your mind/And it feels so good to feed a habit/You're just making the most of your borrowed time/Waiting for the white light--White Light, Vienna Teng), glitter ("For all his bluster, it is the sad province of man that he cannot choose his triumph. He can only choose how he will stand when the call of destiny comes, hoping he will have the courage to answer." – Mohinder Suresh, from Heroes)
Word Count: 339
Rating: R
Characters: Mel
Warnings: Genocide
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Takes place in an alternate 981 FY, where Kellom is Sorell's father, rather than the other way around.
Mel circled 'human' on the form, even though he knew what the question meant and knew it was a lie.
He was taken to another room and left to wait for an hour.
"I apologize for this," he's told, "it's mostly a formality, but the King insists."
More and more afraid, he threw every test they put him through--he needs to be here, as far from Kit as he can get.
"Apologies again," the tester said, after approving his visa and letting him through.
He hadn't even found a place to stay yet when he saw the first bodies.
There weren't many visible, and some of those were old, old, months old, and he started to wonder if he shouldn't have found a different place to hide.
He wandered around the city for several hours, knowing he couldn't stay--it wasn't safe, and what was happening here was, if possible, worse than what he left--but not knowing how he could leave safely, either.
He decided to stay when he found an apartment with graffiti on it, signed with only a stylized rose.
As he went about the business of uneasily settling into a new life, he looked for those roses, those messages on the walls--the City Watch couldn't wash them off fast enough.
After six months, he was finally able to make contact.
When he made a globe of water in his hands, and wouldn't be talked into leaving, the suspicious operatives welcomed him.
Mel hadn't been able to help the people his brother killed--because that was, in the end, his fault--but he could help the people here, if any were still alive.
There was more to it than message, of course--extracting prisoners, attacking former handlers and executioners, finding the displayed bodies and giving them the dignity of proper burial, trying to identify them so other survivors could have peace.
When he was afraid, he repeated to himself that first graffiti he'd seen, to remind himself why he had to stay.
WE ARE ALL HUMAN.
WE WILL NOT BE BROKEN.
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