Gabe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
auguris) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2014-01-26 01:22 pm
auguris) wrote in rainbowfic2014-01-26 01:22 pm
Zing 8, Dirt Brown 10
Name: auguris
'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: Empty-handed
Colors: Zing 8. I'm not being rude, you're just insignificant, Dirt Brown 10. Melancholic
Supplies and Styles: Pastels: fury, Novelty Beads (fromsettecorvi, You have your father's eyes and desert ghosts / Beg you to grant them lies of silver. / And still your mother moon stays cold and distant; / Pray she'll release you soon, stand in the dust, and shiver. - All The While, Seanan McGuire)
Word Count: 981
Rating: R (just for language)
Warnings: None.
Summary: Alistair returns to Krixos.
Tamsin reached for her phone without thinking, then forced herself to let it go without checking. They were fine. Broker and Mitchell could damn well handle themselves in one little haunted house. Elina was surrounded by fellow Healers and Gardeners. Cagri literally lived in a tower.
Everything was fine.
She whirled to face the knock at the door, snapping wards across her skin, hand on the gun she had taken to wearing even at home. Everyone she knew had taken to calling or texting ahead. It could be a neighbor, one of the humans maybe. A friend of Mitchell's who didn't have her number. The Court come a'calling.
She moved silently, peering through the peephole. A dark skinned man shifted his weight, arms crossed then uncrossed. She pushed her magic to him, subtle as she could -- he glanced up, staring at the door. Wizarding, then. Familiar, but she couldn't place him. Someone she'd passed by in the Assembly's hallways or the Grove's pathways? Someone she'd arrested?
Someone who'd tried to kill her?
She opened the door halfway, looking the man up and down. "Can I help you?"
Apprehension sat clear on his face. He worried his lip before asking, "Are you Tamsin?"
Lady preserve me. "Who are you?"
He smoothed his jacket as he answered, "My name is Alistair Draig. I'm--"
"You're my father," Tamsin blurted out. That was why he felt familiar, like an old acquaintance whose name she'd forgotten. She looked him over again, trying for anger and coming up empty. Her memories of him slipped through fog, too hazy and old to match what little she knew to what stood before her. "Why are you here?"
He gestured without aim. "Can I come in?"
She took her time answering. Could he? Did she want this man here? Did providing half of her genetic material mean anything? Nieve has raised her and--
Chin high she stepped back, opening the door the rest of the way.
He wandered into the living room, staring at the furniture, the hi-def TV. "Is Moira -- is your mother here?"
Tamsin shook her head at the old, familiar ache. "She died eight years ago." She turned her head away from the shocked look, the watering eyes, the hand at his mouth. "Coffee?"
*
They sat in silence, neither drinking from their mugs. Tamsin wrapped her hands around the ceramic, periodically pushing a little heat in to keep her coffee scorching. She blinked at Alistair, eyes widening, when she realized he was doing the same.
"What happened?" he asked, voice quivering. "Did she... was it..."
"Her car crashed into a tree fast enough to throw her through the windshield," you utter fucking bastard you should have been here.
Oh. There was the anger.
"Lady," Alistair moaned, head in his hands. Tamsin reached for her phone. Didn't check it. "What of Nieve? Nieve Lac? Is she well?"
"I don't know," Tamsin said. "She joined up with Dweven's Followers. I haven't spoken to her in some time."
Alistair blinked swollen red eyes at her. "Those blasphemous cultists? Why in the hells would she do that?" He shook his head, not waiting for an answer. "Does Donat know? Did he stay in Moira's life?"
"Master Vider? He knows, all right. He stopped her from... it doesn't matter. He stopped her. He's in Krixos, now." Did he stay in Moira's life. Lady's sake.
The door opened and she barely stopped from jumping out of her chair. Broker and Mitchell walked in, the former grousing about traffic and the latter dropping his duffel bag to the carpet.
She watched Broker assess the situation -- strange man in his living room, Tamsin unharmed, coffee untouched. He raised his eyebrows and she nodded. "Who's this?" he said out loud.
Mitchell peered at Alistair, eyes narrowing. Had she given Alistair the same look? Mitchell's magic was... not stronger, perhaps, but quieter. He saw more of a person than she did. Perhaps to do with his Talent versus hers. "Good question," he murmured.
Alistair stood, resting his mug on the end table. "Alistair Draig," he repeated. He stood angled away from Tamsin, but she could see Mitchell's reaction just fine. His eyes went wide and he turned away, as if he were about to storm out the door, then turned back, glaring at her.
"You let him in?"
"Can I have some context?" Broker asked.
"He's our father," Tamsin said in answer to both questions.
"Barely. Biologically. No, you don't get to talk," he said, pointing at Alistair's half-open mouth. "You abandoned us. You abandoned her. You left her alone--"
"She had Nieve," Alistair said desperately.
"Nieve is insane!" Mitchell threw up his hands. "For what? Did you even find it?"
"Find what?" Tamsin murmured.
"No," Alistair said. "It was in Hong Kong. It was. Something happened there, I lost the trail--"
"Oh Lady drown you I do not care!" Mitchell stomped back and forth. "You utter bastard."
Tamsin stood, putting herself between Alistair and her brother. She agreed with him, to be honest, but -- "What are you talking about?"
Mitchell regarded her, anger falling off his face. "She never told you?" He started to reach for her but seemed to think better of it. "I'm sorry. She only barely told me, I had to put it together... never mind. The Sword. Excalibur. He was looking for a Ladyforsaken enchanted weapon." He snapped that last bit over Tamsin's shoulder. "I know a guy who can do one for you. Get you a good deal on it. Make it sparkle."
"Mitchell," Tamsin said, taking his hands. "Don't. Please." He set his jaw, searching her eyes. "He's our father."
Mitchell closed his eyes and sighed. "And that's important to you. Yeah." He squeezed her hands. "You want me to stick around a while?" She nodded. "Right. I'll settle in." He strode to the kitchen, not giving Alistair a single glance.
auguris'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: Empty-handed
Colors: Zing 8. I'm not being rude, you're just insignificant, Dirt Brown 10. Melancholic
Supplies and Styles: Pastels: fury, Novelty Beads (from
settecorvi, You have your father's eyes and desert ghosts / Beg you to grant them lies of silver. / And still your mother moon stays cold and distant; / Pray she'll release you soon, stand in the dust, and shiver. - All The While, Seanan McGuire)Word Count: 981
Rating: R (just for language)
Warnings: None.
Summary: Alistair returns to Krixos.
Tamsin reached for her phone without thinking, then forced herself to let it go without checking. They were fine. Broker and Mitchell could damn well handle themselves in one little haunted house. Elina was surrounded by fellow Healers and Gardeners. Cagri literally lived in a tower.
Everything was fine.
She whirled to face the knock at the door, snapping wards across her skin, hand on the gun she had taken to wearing even at home. Everyone she knew had taken to calling or texting ahead. It could be a neighbor, one of the humans maybe. A friend of Mitchell's who didn't have her number. The Court come a'calling.
She moved silently, peering through the peephole. A dark skinned man shifted his weight, arms crossed then uncrossed. She pushed her magic to him, subtle as she could -- he glanced up, staring at the door. Wizarding, then. Familiar, but she couldn't place him. Someone she'd passed by in the Assembly's hallways or the Grove's pathways? Someone she'd arrested?
Someone who'd tried to kill her?
She opened the door halfway, looking the man up and down. "Can I help you?"
Apprehension sat clear on his face. He worried his lip before asking, "Are you Tamsin?"
Lady preserve me. "Who are you?"
He smoothed his jacket as he answered, "My name is Alistair Draig. I'm--"
"You're my father," Tamsin blurted out. That was why he felt familiar, like an old acquaintance whose name she'd forgotten. She looked him over again, trying for anger and coming up empty. Her memories of him slipped through fog, too hazy and old to match what little she knew to what stood before her. "Why are you here?"
He gestured without aim. "Can I come in?"
She took her time answering. Could he? Did she want this man here? Did providing half of her genetic material mean anything? Nieve has raised her and--
Chin high she stepped back, opening the door the rest of the way.
He wandered into the living room, staring at the furniture, the hi-def TV. "Is Moira -- is your mother here?"
Tamsin shook her head at the old, familiar ache. "She died eight years ago." She turned her head away from the shocked look, the watering eyes, the hand at his mouth. "Coffee?"
*
They sat in silence, neither drinking from their mugs. Tamsin wrapped her hands around the ceramic, periodically pushing a little heat in to keep her coffee scorching. She blinked at Alistair, eyes widening, when she realized he was doing the same.
"What happened?" he asked, voice quivering. "Did she... was it..."
"Her car crashed into a tree fast enough to throw her through the windshield," you utter fucking bastard you should have been here.
Oh. There was the anger.
"Lady," Alistair moaned, head in his hands. Tamsin reached for her phone. Didn't check it. "What of Nieve? Nieve Lac? Is she well?"
"I don't know," Tamsin said. "She joined up with Dweven's Followers. I haven't spoken to her in some time."
Alistair blinked swollen red eyes at her. "Those blasphemous cultists? Why in the hells would she do that?" He shook his head, not waiting for an answer. "Does Donat know? Did he stay in Moira's life?"
"Master Vider? He knows, all right. He stopped her from... it doesn't matter. He stopped her. He's in Krixos, now." Did he stay in Moira's life. Lady's sake.
The door opened and she barely stopped from jumping out of her chair. Broker and Mitchell walked in, the former grousing about traffic and the latter dropping his duffel bag to the carpet.
She watched Broker assess the situation -- strange man in his living room, Tamsin unharmed, coffee untouched. He raised his eyebrows and she nodded. "Who's this?" he said out loud.
Mitchell peered at Alistair, eyes narrowing. Had she given Alistair the same look? Mitchell's magic was... not stronger, perhaps, but quieter. He saw more of a person than she did. Perhaps to do with his Talent versus hers. "Good question," he murmured.
Alistair stood, resting his mug on the end table. "Alistair Draig," he repeated. He stood angled away from Tamsin, but she could see Mitchell's reaction just fine. His eyes went wide and he turned away, as if he were about to storm out the door, then turned back, glaring at her.
"You let him in?"
"Can I have some context?" Broker asked.
"He's our father," Tamsin said in answer to both questions.
"Barely. Biologically. No, you don't get to talk," he said, pointing at Alistair's half-open mouth. "You abandoned us. You abandoned her. You left her alone--"
"She had Nieve," Alistair said desperately.
"Nieve is insane!" Mitchell threw up his hands. "For what? Did you even find it?"
"Find what?" Tamsin murmured.
"No," Alistair said. "It was in Hong Kong. It was. Something happened there, I lost the trail--"
"Oh Lady drown you I do not care!" Mitchell stomped back and forth. "You utter bastard."
Tamsin stood, putting herself between Alistair and her brother. She agreed with him, to be honest, but -- "What are you talking about?"
Mitchell regarded her, anger falling off his face. "She never told you?" He started to reach for her but seemed to think better of it. "I'm sorry. She only barely told me, I had to put it together... never mind. The Sword. Excalibur. He was looking for a Ladyforsaken enchanted weapon." He snapped that last bit over Tamsin's shoulder. "I know a guy who can do one for you. Get you a good deal on it. Make it sparkle."
"Mitchell," Tamsin said, taking his hands. "Don't. Please." He set his jaw, searching her eyes. "He's our father."
Mitchell closed his eyes and sighed. "And that's important to you. Yeah." He squeezed her hands. "You want me to stick around a while?" She nodded. "Right. I'll settle in." He strode to the kitchen, not giving Alistair a single glance.
no subject
no subject
Thank you!
no subject
no subject