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rainbowfic2013-09-22 12:05 pm
auguris) wrote in rainbowfic2013-09-22 12:05 pm
Bone Black 11, Sulphur 4, Transparent 6
Name: auguris
'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: Broker of Death VII
Colors: Bone Black 11. Necropsy, Sulphur 4. Summoning, Transparent 6. Bird
Supplies and Styles: Canvas
Word Count: 988
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, mild gore
Summary: Broker's assignment isn't quite what it seems. Most likely the last of the BoD stories. Concrit welcome.
The sparse forest path widened to encompass an old hunting cabin. Made entirely of weathered and fading lumber, boards criss-crossed the front windows and the porch had collapsed.
Broker frowned. Did he have the right place? A very distraught human girl had repeated the story about chanting and the smell of iron and a black mist -- but the cabin was not haunted. The photo she'd sent him matched, as well.
He set his bag at the foot of broken steps and made his careful way to the door. No harm in checking; at least he could tell the teenager that the woods were safe from ghosts.
Devoid of both furniture and the undead, the main room left him uneasy. He found a white powder near a shut door -- not salt or baking soda. It clung to his fingers like clay. The door creaked on rusty hinges; a clear echo of recent death washed over him, bloodied hands and cracked lips snapping through his mind.
With it came the metal smell the girl had told him of -- thick and coppery, climbing up his nose. The stairway led down, of course, into the basement. The way every horror movie said this should go. He scrunched up his face and conjured a light orb, willing it to float up behind his head.
He took each groaning, dipping step with care, ready to catch himself. More of the powder spilled across the concrete floor, leading to a spell circle. The outer circle took up enough space to fit a small car; the inner circle left enough room between for a person to sit. Runes drawn out in the same powder provided protection, amplification -- the third set he didn't recognize. He snapped a photo with his phone -- Master Vider would know, or point him in the right direction.
He turned his attention to the very center and recoiled; a crow lay open, rib cage cracked open, organs laid out around the corpse. Swallowing revulsion, he took another photo before heading back to the staircase.
Floorboards grumbled overhead. That teenage girl, come to see him work? "I told you it's too dangerous--"
Not the teenage girl.
He waved out the light orb, regarding the woman in front of him. Dark in face and hair, tight braids tied back, brown eyes narrowed. He'd seen her before, in Krixos maybe -- Elijah was always introducing him to new wizards, a few slipped through the cracks sometimes.
"Assembly?" she asked.
"Seer," he answered, straightening. "I think we've met."
She snorted. "I doubt that." But she looked him over. "You're the new Adept, yeah? They'd send the new kid to the corner of nowhere. You studied under Donat Vider."
"Yes," he said, breath coming out in a rush Lady's grace and light he recognized her from the day Master Vider had chased her out of the house.
"I always thought it was interesting," she said, stepping closer as he stepped away, "that he was sent a new Apprentice, so soon, and so close in age to his poor dead charge." His back hit the wall and she grinned. "I saw you that day, didn't I? On the stairs. I did. It never clicked." He snapped a ward over his skin as she slammed both palms against the wall beside his head. Magic coursed across her skin, her eyes gone pure black. "You're Havard Eisvur. He saved you."
He drew his power into pure force and shoved her back; she didn't budge, thrusting his own spell back at him; her own working trapped him against the wall and he tore at it but it slipped around his magic and she'd weaved it so thickly--
She pressed her body against his, chuckling into his ear. "How nice to be so loved," she murmured, breath hot. "I wonder what they told you?"
"Nothing," he said, voice high and tight. "Nothing, I don't know anything about it please I swear--"
She placed her hand over his mouth. "Shh. I believe you." She ran gentle fingers down his cheek. "Follow my father's example and stay out of our business, boy. Or we'll reunite you with your family." She pulled back, bringing the spell with her. He slid to the floor, every inch of his body trembling. "I'm going to clean out the basement. Don't be here when I'm finished."
*
"It's a summoning," Master Vider's voice eased through the phone, calm and clear. "I can't say what for. Have you told anyone else?"
"No," Broker said, sitting on the edge of the tub behind the locked bathroom door. Not that it would stop her.
"Good. I want you to keep this to yourself."
Broker made a face. "Why the hells should I do that? Whatever they're up to can't be good, and I'm not exactly qualified to deal with it." At the moment he wasn't qualified to walk in a straight line. Scotch. He should have grabbed a bottle before hiding in his hotel room.
"What do you expect to happen, Broker?" Vider waited a beat before continuing, "The Assembly, which does not officially recognize the Followers of Morgause, will send a Master or two to investigate the cabin -- which is now empty of any real proof -- and Kaija or another Follower will make note of that. And come for you." Broker swore. "Are you prepared for that?"
"No," he said, hating the fear in his voice. "No, I am definitely not. I need a defensive spell that's actually effective and to figure out how to break through that net and a, a pistol and--"
"Broker," Vider said gently. "Come back to Caydoon, when you're ready."
"You'll show me the lightning trick?"
"I'll show you the lightning trick. Among others." Broker rubbed his eyes. Good. That was good. Next time he would be ready. "I am very glad you're not hurt."
He almost smiled. "Yeah, me too."
auguris'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: Broker of Death VII
Colors: Bone Black 11. Necropsy, Sulphur 4. Summoning, Transparent 6. Bird
Supplies and Styles: Canvas
Word Count: 988
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, mild gore
Summary: Broker's assignment isn't quite what it seems. Most likely the last of the BoD stories. Concrit welcome.
The sparse forest path widened to encompass an old hunting cabin. Made entirely of weathered and fading lumber, boards criss-crossed the front windows and the porch had collapsed.
Broker frowned. Did he have the right place? A very distraught human girl had repeated the story about chanting and the smell of iron and a black mist -- but the cabin was not haunted. The photo she'd sent him matched, as well.
He set his bag at the foot of broken steps and made his careful way to the door. No harm in checking; at least he could tell the teenager that the woods were safe from ghosts.
Devoid of both furniture and the undead, the main room left him uneasy. He found a white powder near a shut door -- not salt or baking soda. It clung to his fingers like clay. The door creaked on rusty hinges; a clear echo of recent death washed over him, bloodied hands and cracked lips snapping through his mind.
With it came the metal smell the girl had told him of -- thick and coppery, climbing up his nose. The stairway led down, of course, into the basement. The way every horror movie said this should go. He scrunched up his face and conjured a light orb, willing it to float up behind his head.
He took each groaning, dipping step with care, ready to catch himself. More of the powder spilled across the concrete floor, leading to a spell circle. The outer circle took up enough space to fit a small car; the inner circle left enough room between for a person to sit. Runes drawn out in the same powder provided protection, amplification -- the third set he didn't recognize. He snapped a photo with his phone -- Master Vider would know, or point him in the right direction.
He turned his attention to the very center and recoiled; a crow lay open, rib cage cracked open, organs laid out around the corpse. Swallowing revulsion, he took another photo before heading back to the staircase.
Floorboards grumbled overhead. That teenage girl, come to see him work? "I told you it's too dangerous--"
Not the teenage girl.
He waved out the light orb, regarding the woman in front of him. Dark in face and hair, tight braids tied back, brown eyes narrowed. He'd seen her before, in Krixos maybe -- Elijah was always introducing him to new wizards, a few slipped through the cracks sometimes.
"Assembly?" she asked.
"Seer," he answered, straightening. "I think we've met."
She snorted. "I doubt that." But she looked him over. "You're the new Adept, yeah? They'd send the new kid to the corner of nowhere. You studied under Donat Vider."
"Yes," he said, breath coming out in a rush Lady's grace and light he recognized her from the day Master Vider had chased her out of the house.
"I always thought it was interesting," she said, stepping closer as he stepped away, "that he was sent a new Apprentice, so soon, and so close in age to his poor dead charge." His back hit the wall and she grinned. "I saw you that day, didn't I? On the stairs. I did. It never clicked." He snapped a ward over his skin as she slammed both palms against the wall beside his head. Magic coursed across her skin, her eyes gone pure black. "You're Havard Eisvur. He saved you."
He drew his power into pure force and shoved her back; she didn't budge, thrusting his own spell back at him; her own working trapped him against the wall and he tore at it but it slipped around his magic and she'd weaved it so thickly--
She pressed her body against his, chuckling into his ear. "How nice to be so loved," she murmured, breath hot. "I wonder what they told you?"
"Nothing," he said, voice high and tight. "Nothing, I don't know anything about it please I swear--"
She placed her hand over his mouth. "Shh. I believe you." She ran gentle fingers down his cheek. "Follow my father's example and stay out of our business, boy. Or we'll reunite you with your family." She pulled back, bringing the spell with her. He slid to the floor, every inch of his body trembling. "I'm going to clean out the basement. Don't be here when I'm finished."
*
"It's a summoning," Master Vider's voice eased through the phone, calm and clear. "I can't say what for. Have you told anyone else?"
"No," Broker said, sitting on the edge of the tub behind the locked bathroom door. Not that it would stop her.
"Good. I want you to keep this to yourself."
Broker made a face. "Why the hells should I do that? Whatever they're up to can't be good, and I'm not exactly qualified to deal with it." At the moment he wasn't qualified to walk in a straight line. Scotch. He should have grabbed a bottle before hiding in his hotel room.
"What do you expect to happen, Broker?" Vider waited a beat before continuing, "The Assembly, which does not officially recognize the Followers of Morgause, will send a Master or two to investigate the cabin -- which is now empty of any real proof -- and Kaija or another Follower will make note of that. And come for you." Broker swore. "Are you prepared for that?"
"No," he said, hating the fear in his voice. "No, I am definitely not. I need a defensive spell that's actually effective and to figure out how to break through that net and a, a pistol and--"
"Broker," Vider said gently. "Come back to Caydoon, when you're ready."
"You'll show me the lightning trick?"
"I'll show you the lightning trick. Among others." Broker rubbed his eyes. Good. That was good. Next time he would be ready. "I am very glad you're not hurt."
He almost smiled. "Yeah, me too."