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rainbowfic2012-11-28 11:57 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2012-11-28 11:57 pm
Arsenic #10, Gunmetal #6, Bone #14
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Pickup
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Arsenic #10. fugu, Gunmetal #6. Machete Pro, Bone #14. desiccation
Supplies and Materials: eraser (Desshiri!verse), brush (hortative), modeling clay, chalk, novelty beads ("Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it."), beading wire
Word Count: 534
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Taz, Desshiri
Warnings: References to enslavement and torture
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Desshiri curled up on the riverbank, wrapped in the guard-cloak Prince Andrell had stolen for her. It was still cold--more than cold, she'd never imagined it could be so cold before. She shivered, and looked down the river, straining to see if there was a ship coming. The Movement had promised a ship.
There wasn't anyone else with her, not at this checkpoint. She wavered back and forth between relief and terror--there was no one to sell her out, the way Lady Rema probably had, one way or another, but there was no one to help her if she got into trouble. The Movement had found her another prosthetic, but...she couldn't get away easy, especially since it didn't fit right, and she was painfully aware of how vulnerable she was.
More afraid than relieved. Definitely.
A ship materialized in the mist, and Desshiri pushed herself up. She pulled the hood of the cloak forward on her face--if this was the wrong ship, she had a plausible explanation for being here, of course, but her face might well give her away.
It matched the description she'd been given--a shallow ship, long and lean, with dark-stained wood and a sharp, narrow prow, decorated with a figure of a naked man, in faded colors of red and gold.
The ship stopped not far from her, and a tall, dark woman leaped out. The river buckled beneath her, making a shallow depression which carried her to shore.
"Captain Hantree?" Desshiri asked, cautiously.
"Taz, yeah," the tall woman responded, and smiled. "Relax, I've been doin' this for a while. Might call me a professional."
Desshiri relaxed a little, pushed her hood back and smiled a little herself. Weird as it was to think, since Captain Hantree was probably close to twice her age, the water-mage's easy confidence reminded Desshiri of herself, before that stupid warehouse fire and Lady Rema and everything that had--
That was behind her now. She was free. "Nice to meet you. And thank you."
Captain Hantree eyed her. "You fire?"
Desshiri flushed, and touched her collar. "Yes. Is that a problem?"
Captain Hantree shook her head. "Nah, just might not be too comfortable for you."
"Oh." Right, Riluke had said the ocean was unpleasant. "Okay. Thank you, for the warning, Captain Hantree."
"I told you, Taz," she said, and smiled again. "Lots of Captain Hantrees, after all."
Desshiri flushed. "Right. Sorry."
"Come on, we should go, 'fore someone catches up. Need a hand?"
Desshiri considered a minute--she could probably make it onto the ship by herself, but...as Captain H--Captain Taz had just reminded her, speed might be an issue. "I can't go very fast right now."
Captain Taz nodded, and took her hand. "I got you," she said, and guided her along the riverbank and up to the ship. "Don't worry," she said, with a slightly flippant grin. "The Glory is fast. You're gonna be fine."
As unsettling as it was, surrounded by water and cold, as Desshiri hit the wood of the deck, she trusted Taz knew what she was talking about, and something deep inside her unknotted. For the first time in ages, she almost felt safe.
Story: Pickup
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Arsenic #10. fugu, Gunmetal #6. Machete Pro, Bone #14. desiccation
Supplies and Materials: eraser (Desshiri!verse), brush (hortative), modeling clay, chalk, novelty beads ("Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it."), beading wire
Word Count: 534
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Taz, Desshiri
Warnings: References to enslavement and torture
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Desshiri curled up on the riverbank, wrapped in the guard-cloak Prince Andrell had stolen for her. It was still cold--more than cold, she'd never imagined it could be so cold before. She shivered, and looked down the river, straining to see if there was a ship coming. The Movement had promised a ship.
There wasn't anyone else with her, not at this checkpoint. She wavered back and forth between relief and terror--there was no one to sell her out, the way Lady Rema probably had, one way or another, but there was no one to help her if she got into trouble. The Movement had found her another prosthetic, but...she couldn't get away easy, especially since it didn't fit right, and she was painfully aware of how vulnerable she was.
More afraid than relieved. Definitely.
A ship materialized in the mist, and Desshiri pushed herself up. She pulled the hood of the cloak forward on her face--if this was the wrong ship, she had a plausible explanation for being here, of course, but her face might well give her away.
It matched the description she'd been given--a shallow ship, long and lean, with dark-stained wood and a sharp, narrow prow, decorated with a figure of a naked man, in faded colors of red and gold.
The ship stopped not far from her, and a tall, dark woman leaped out. The river buckled beneath her, making a shallow depression which carried her to shore.
"Captain Hantree?" Desshiri asked, cautiously.
"Taz, yeah," the tall woman responded, and smiled. "Relax, I've been doin' this for a while. Might call me a professional."
Desshiri relaxed a little, pushed her hood back and smiled a little herself. Weird as it was to think, since Captain Hantree was probably close to twice her age, the water-mage's easy confidence reminded Desshiri of herself, before that stupid warehouse fire and Lady Rema and everything that had--
That was behind her now. She was free. "Nice to meet you. And thank you."
Captain Hantree eyed her. "You fire?"
Desshiri flushed, and touched her collar. "Yes. Is that a problem?"
Captain Hantree shook her head. "Nah, just might not be too comfortable for you."
"Oh." Right, Riluke had said the ocean was unpleasant. "Okay. Thank you, for the warning, Captain Hantree."
"I told you, Taz," she said, and smiled again. "Lots of Captain Hantrees, after all."
Desshiri flushed. "Right. Sorry."
"Come on, we should go, 'fore someone catches up. Need a hand?"
Desshiri considered a minute--she could probably make it onto the ship by herself, but...as Captain H--Captain Taz had just reminded her, speed might be an issue. "I can't go very fast right now."
Captain Taz nodded, and took her hand. "I got you," she said, and guided her along the riverbank and up to the ship. "Don't worry," she said, with a slightly flippant grin. "The Glory is fast. You're gonna be fine."
As unsettling as it was, surrounded by water and cold, as Desshiri hit the wood of the deck, she trusted Taz knew what she was talking about, and something deep inside her unknotted. For the first time in ages, she almost felt safe.
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Taz is really, really good at inspiring confidence, yes. It's one of the reasons her Clan Head recruited her for this.
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