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rainbowfic2013-11-01 01:16 am
greenling) wrote in rainbowfic2013-11-01 01:16 am
Dirt Brown #17
Name: Greenling
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Dirt Brown #17 (Pentacle)
Supplies and Styles: Paint by Numbers (do you think you’ll be saved by the gods and idols that you have made?)
Word Count: 1,265
Rating: PG13ish
Warnings: Mild violence and horror stuff.
Summary: Peace learns the power of believing in yourself... kinda. Mostly, a werewolf rip-and-tears his way through a bunch of monsters and another one runs over some dudes in a car.
Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.
Every person in the hallway turned towards the stairwell door.
"Oh, god," mumbled someone.
"Calm down. Everything is blocked off," said the boy in the chair. He sat up, picking up a lacrosse stick from the floor. "Just keep the door closed; it could be that something fell. Or it could be a lot of things."
"Mike, you don't actually know what you're doing," said the big guy beside him in a low voice.
Their quiet conversation continued; Peace stepped forward, staring at the door and pricking his ears. There was shuffling, and something else he couldn't quite hear.
He took another step forward. "Hey. You. What're you doing?" said the boy in the chair.
"I'm going to-"
They were startled by a knock at the door.
"Is there someone in there?"
It was a woman's voice; Peace stepped forward to open the door.
"Hey! Don't do that, you don't know what-" said the big guy, interrupted by the glare of the woman who came through the door. There were two of them. "Look, have you seen them? They're some kind of vampires. You can't just let people in."
"Vampires that walk in sunlight? We're screwed," said someone.
"Is that what you thought?" said the glaring woman. "I heard banging from our floor and went downstairs to find someone had rolled a goddamn refrigerator in front of the door out. What are you people doing?"
"Trying to barricade the building," said the blond, more to the big guy than the woman. "Against what are probably zombies, or some other weird infection."
"How would you know?"
"I'm not giving up a rational explanation until we have any real information whatsoever," muttered a woman in a tank top, curled up next to the chair.
"Hey, guys?" said the lookout. "Uh, they've learned to climb."
Peace had been about to leave out the door while they weren't paying attention, but that caught his attention- and everyone else's. About half the group pressed forward towards the windows; the other half inched back towards the wall without them. The blond guy said something about homemade napalm that Peace wasn't paying attention to.
A couple of them were climbing, and just as he watched, one of them managed to get open a window. Whether they were learning, or just as intelligent as the velociraptors in that one movie, Peace didn't know, but he did know what he could do about it.
He snarled without thinking; it was loud and deep, and the people next to him screamed and jumped back. He didn't have time to explain. "Smack them if they get up here, I'm going down."
"Wait-" Peace didn't bother to listen before tossing the door open and heading down the stairwell.
He was furious, and fury meant wanting to hurt things, and thus far, that had been good enough. He focused on that feeling as he descended the stairs, on the floaty way it made him feel and the way it influenced his actions. He saw yellow eyes at the door to the second story, and with the boost that gave him he burst through it, claws scraping a deep rent in the thin metal.
His senses were tinged with soft color and things he didn't quite understand, but he did know the dark, sulphur-and-sewer-smelling shapes in front of him. They howled, and so did he, his claws ripping into their human-soft bodies before they could advance. The hall was cramped, and he was simply a lot bigger than most of them, with more reach; one of them managed to duck underneath him, but after the last fight, he was ready for that. They were about as fast as him, or faster, but as the thing went for his underbelly, he kicked it hard, then ducked down and grabbed it- barely, and more awkwardly than he'd hoped- in both hands, using it as a shield-slash-battering ram for the remaining few, biting and snapping as he passed.
He plowed through the lot of them and tossed the one he had been using out the second-floor window before leaping out himself.
He landed softly- at first. His landing surprised him, and a second later, he felt the impact all the way through his legs.
"Agh!" Peace fell to his knees, much to the delight of the remaining creatures. He heard shouting from above him, and another creature landed with a crunch on one that had lunged at him; he thought to thank whoever had knocked it, but there was no time. Another one was smart enough to give him a sharp blow to his right arm and jump back; it stung, and made him even slower. Terror began to overtake his anger, and his image of himself as a wolfman flickered.
Quickly, he stood up, willing himself to heal faster; he had no idea if that helped or not, but it was his best idea. He growled and swung at one of the creatures, trying to back up towards the door. Unfortunately, they'd figured out the flanking thing, or else one of them had appeared out of thin air, and he felt teeth in the back of his leg.
He howled, swinging wildly; another one tried to take him down and latched into his left forearm. He tried his damnedest to focus on the anger for a moment, but the pain kept bringing him back to his body. He spat syllables, swearing about that damned snake, whatever it was, and tried something else.
Beneath the pain, somewhere left of the anger, was desperation. The one that had got his leg was nibbling at his injured side, and at the moment he felt a lot more like a deer than a wolf. The image stuck in his mind, and he grasped onto the desperation, and the hope it stemmed from. He formed a symbol in his mind, something he'd read in one of the few books about magic (real or not) he'd been able to find while he was running, and with all of what he had left, he tried to believe that it meant something.
He dropped to the ground as the monsters dropped him, a terrible cacophonous wail coming from the whole crowd. He looked up in wonder (and pain), bleeding from half a dozen places; in front of the building, in the part of his senses that was still attuned to the wolf-ness, he saw a shining arc between him and the monsters. Several of the creatures looked like they had been burnt.
The monsters edged up against the arc, growling. One of them tested it, edging out a claw; it jumped back as if it had been stung.
"Fuck yeah!" Peace punched the air. He stood there for a moment, catching his breath, grinning, until he heard the screech of tires from down the street. A black SUV swerved onto the street and scattered the herd of monsters, barely slowing down, knocking a few of them out of the way. It came to a stop several car-lengths down, then reversed itself back to Peace.
A guy opened the passenger's side door, then hopped out the driver's. He was shortish, with dark skin and braids, and he looked like he was dressed for a hiking expedition.
"Hey!" the guy shouted. "Get in!"
"What?" Peace was really tired of being confused. "I was dealing with them!"
"I know!" He grinned. "Get in, talking wolf. We need to talk."
Peace hesitated for a moment, taking in what the guy was implying. Then, he sighed, waved to the windows upstairs, and got in.
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Dirt Brown #17 (Pentacle)
Supplies and Styles: Paint by Numbers (do you think you’ll be saved by the gods and idols that you have made?)
Word Count: 1,265
Rating: PG13ish
Warnings: Mild violence and horror stuff.
Summary: Peace learns the power of believing in yourself... kinda. Mostly, a werewolf rip-and-tears his way through a bunch of monsters and another one runs over some dudes in a car.
Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.
Every person in the hallway turned towards the stairwell door.
"Oh, god," mumbled someone.
"Calm down. Everything is blocked off," said the boy in the chair. He sat up, picking up a lacrosse stick from the floor. "Just keep the door closed; it could be that something fell. Or it could be a lot of things."
"Mike, you don't actually know what you're doing," said the big guy beside him in a low voice.
Their quiet conversation continued; Peace stepped forward, staring at the door and pricking his ears. There was shuffling, and something else he couldn't quite hear.
He took another step forward. "Hey. You. What're you doing?" said the boy in the chair.
"I'm going to-"
They were startled by a knock at the door.
"Is there someone in there?"
It was a woman's voice; Peace stepped forward to open the door.
"Hey! Don't do that, you don't know what-" said the big guy, interrupted by the glare of the woman who came through the door. There were two of them. "Look, have you seen them? They're some kind of vampires. You can't just let people in."
"Vampires that walk in sunlight? We're screwed," said someone.
"Is that what you thought?" said the glaring woman. "I heard banging from our floor and went downstairs to find someone had rolled a goddamn refrigerator in front of the door out. What are you people doing?"
"Trying to barricade the building," said the blond, more to the big guy than the woman. "Against what are probably zombies, or some other weird infection."
"How would you know?"
"I'm not giving up a rational explanation until we have any real information whatsoever," muttered a woman in a tank top, curled up next to the chair.
"Hey, guys?" said the lookout. "Uh, they've learned to climb."
Peace had been about to leave out the door while they weren't paying attention, but that caught his attention- and everyone else's. About half the group pressed forward towards the windows; the other half inched back towards the wall without them. The blond guy said something about homemade napalm that Peace wasn't paying attention to.
A couple of them were climbing, and just as he watched, one of them managed to get open a window. Whether they were learning, or just as intelligent as the velociraptors in that one movie, Peace didn't know, but he did know what he could do about it.
He snarled without thinking; it was loud and deep, and the people next to him screamed and jumped back. He didn't have time to explain. "Smack them if they get up here, I'm going down."
"Wait-" Peace didn't bother to listen before tossing the door open and heading down the stairwell.
He was furious, and fury meant wanting to hurt things, and thus far, that had been good enough. He focused on that feeling as he descended the stairs, on the floaty way it made him feel and the way it influenced his actions. He saw yellow eyes at the door to the second story, and with the boost that gave him he burst through it, claws scraping a deep rent in the thin metal.
His senses were tinged with soft color and things he didn't quite understand, but he did know the dark, sulphur-and-sewer-smelling shapes in front of him. They howled, and so did he, his claws ripping into their human-soft bodies before they could advance. The hall was cramped, and he was simply a lot bigger than most of them, with more reach; one of them managed to duck underneath him, but after the last fight, he was ready for that. They were about as fast as him, or faster, but as the thing went for his underbelly, he kicked it hard, then ducked down and grabbed it- barely, and more awkwardly than he'd hoped- in both hands, using it as a shield-slash-battering ram for the remaining few, biting and snapping as he passed.
He plowed through the lot of them and tossed the one he had been using out the second-floor window before leaping out himself.
He landed softly- at first. His landing surprised him, and a second later, he felt the impact all the way through his legs.
"Agh!" Peace fell to his knees, much to the delight of the remaining creatures. He heard shouting from above him, and another creature landed with a crunch on one that had lunged at him; he thought to thank whoever had knocked it, but there was no time. Another one was smart enough to give him a sharp blow to his right arm and jump back; it stung, and made him even slower. Terror began to overtake his anger, and his image of himself as a wolfman flickered.
Quickly, he stood up, willing himself to heal faster; he had no idea if that helped or not, but it was his best idea. He growled and swung at one of the creatures, trying to back up towards the door. Unfortunately, they'd figured out the flanking thing, or else one of them had appeared out of thin air, and he felt teeth in the back of his leg.
He howled, swinging wildly; another one tried to take him down and latched into his left forearm. He tried his damnedest to focus on the anger for a moment, but the pain kept bringing him back to his body. He spat syllables, swearing about that damned snake, whatever it was, and tried something else.
Beneath the pain, somewhere left of the anger, was desperation. The one that had got his leg was nibbling at his injured side, and at the moment he felt a lot more like a deer than a wolf. The image stuck in his mind, and he grasped onto the desperation, and the hope it stemmed from. He formed a symbol in his mind, something he'd read in one of the few books about magic (real or not) he'd been able to find while he was running, and with all of what he had left, he tried to believe that it meant something.
He dropped to the ground as the monsters dropped him, a terrible cacophonous wail coming from the whole crowd. He looked up in wonder (and pain), bleeding from half a dozen places; in front of the building, in the part of his senses that was still attuned to the wolf-ness, he saw a shining arc between him and the monsters. Several of the creatures looked like they had been burnt.
The monsters edged up against the arc, growling. One of them tested it, edging out a claw; it jumped back as if it had been stung.
"Fuck yeah!" Peace punched the air. He stood there for a moment, catching his breath, grinning, until he heard the screech of tires from down the street. A black SUV swerved onto the street and scattered the herd of monsters, barely slowing down, knocking a few of them out of the way. It came to a stop several car-lengths down, then reversed itself back to Peace.
A guy opened the passenger's side door, then hopped out the driver's. He was shortish, with dark skin and braids, and he looked like he was dressed for a hiking expedition.
"Hey!" the guy shouted. "Get in!"
"What?" Peace was really tired of being confused. "I was dealing with them!"
"I know!" He grinned. "Get in, talking wolf. We need to talk."
Peace hesitated for a moment, taking in what the guy was implying. Then, he sighed, waved to the windows upstairs, and got in.
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Peace is probably the closest I've got to a standard hero type in this. Maybe Lance. I'm glad Peace comes off as badass. :D