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rainbowfic2014-03-09 01:04 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2014-03-09 01:04 pm
Admin Yellow #16, Gold #8, Octarine #18
Could I get a color tag for Gold, please?
Name:kay_brooke
Story: The Drakes
Colors: Admin Yellow #16 (once we become predictable, we become vulnerable), Gold #8 (finance is the art of passing money hand to hand until it finally disappears), Octarine #18 (the moments that change your life are the ones that happen suddenly, like the one where you die)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas
Word Count: 1,058
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: More bad news for Finley Drake.
Note: Another rewrite. Sort of a companion piece to this, though this takes place before that one. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Finley was awakened by someone pounding on her door. Sitting up groggily, she muttered, "What?" Even though her curtains were shut, she could see that it was still dark outside, which meant someone had come to wake her up way too early. Now that she was an advanced cadet, she no longer had early morning classes.
"You have a visitor," said the person on the other side of the door. Finley recognized Henry's voice and rolled her eyes. She weighed the consequences of actually opening the door: practical jokes weren't Henry's style, but he had hated Finley since she had arrived at the Academy, and her promotion to the upper ranks of students had only made his enmity worse. He would be more than willing to see her humiliated, and there was no way she had a visitor at all, much less so early in the morning.
"Go away, Henry," she said.
There was silence on the other side of the door for a moment, and Finley could practically hear the man seething. Finally, he said, "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I was sent to give you a message. You have a visitor in the lounge. What you do with that information isn't my problem." Through the door, Finley could hear the sound of his boots--always so polished one could see themselves in them--clacking down the hallway until they faded into nothing.
Finley laid back against her pillow, considering. Henry could be bluffing, but subtlety also wasn't his style. Which meant she must really have a visitor. Which then begged the obvious question: who?
She groaned and sat up, wrapping a robe around herself before shuffling to her door. She didn't care if she was seen in her nightclothes with her tangled bed hair. Whoever had decided to visit her at this ridiculous hour deserved the eyesore. She made her way down the dark hallway and into the lounge, frowning as she neared it and heard voices. A lot of voices. Like there were students in the lounge.
And that was exactly what was happening, she saw as she entered the room. It wasn't nearly as busy as it was at peak evening hours, but there were about eight students scattered around the room in small groups, engaged in various activities. What were they doing up so early? Younger students especially didn't tend to get up early; they had little enough sleep as it was.
She didn't have long to dwell on it, though, because she immediately recognized the one person who didn't belong--he was dressed in a business suit, not the gray student uniform,. Finley found herself staring, disbelieving.
"Elliott?" she called, confused. What was he doing at the Academy? In the last letter she had received from him, he had mentioned he was being made a professor at the City University. The Academy was on the outskirts of the city, and far out of his way. The last time she had seen him had been during the last holiday break, the only time of the year when she left the Academy grounds.
He looked up from a brochure he was reading and beamed. "Finley!" Striding over to her, he opened his arms and drew her into a hug. Finley put up with it for a few moments, then wriggled away.
"What are you doing here, Elliott?"
"I have great news!" her brother said, still grinning.
Finley closed her eyes. "This couldn't have gone into a letter? Why did you come here in the middle of the night?"
"Middle of the night?" he repeated, looking puzzled. "It's not even midnight yet."
Finley groaned.
"Is there something wrong?" asked Elliott, the exuberance slipping from his voice.
"No," said Finley, waving a hand at him. "I just fell asleep early and now my schedule is all messed up. I thought it was morning." She opened her eyes to see Elliott watching her, looking concerned. "So, tell me your news."
He grinned again. "Joanna and I are getting married!"
Finley hadn't been smiling, which was a good thing. It was almost too much effort to keep a neutral expression on her face. "Oh," she said. "Well."
Elliott was practically glowing. "Of course we all knew it was coming, but I wanted to make sure I was financially secure before I asked. When I made professor, I thought, well, I should go ahead and just do it."
Finley refrained from pointing out that had he not wasted his inheritance on paying for Joanna to go to school--which she hadn't even finished--he wouldn't have to worry about being financially secure.
"Well?" said Elliott as the silence between the siblings stretched out. "Are you going to say anything?"
Finley forced a smile. It felt like her skin was being stretched too tightly across her mouth. "Congratulations."
The grin slipped off Elliott's face. "But?"
"But nothing," said Finley, shaking her head. "It's great news." She had hoped that her brother would come to his senses and leave Joanna. The woman had never been good enough for him, in Finley's opinion. They had been together for years, though, and the more time passed the more Finley despaired of her brother ever making the right decision. "But you could have put it in a letter. You're right; we all knew it was only a matter of time."
"I thought you might like the news in person," said Elliott, a stiffness entering his voice that Finley had never heard before. "You're out here all alone. We can barely get you to visit for holidays."
"I'm busy here," said Finley. What she really wanted to do was shake her brother until the stiffness was gone, until he talked to her like he had always used to, when she was the favorite baby sister that he doted on. But Joanna had gotten in the way of that in recent years, and now, Finley knew, there would forever be that gate between them. It wasn't fair. But this was inevitable and always had been.
"Well," said Elliott. "I should go."
"Yes," said Finley. "I was trying to sleep."
"I'll see you at the holidays," said Elliott. He slipped on his overcoat, nodded to her, and left the lounge.
Finley took a moment to gather her composure--she was not going to cry--and went back to bed.
Name:
kay_brookeStory: The Drakes
Colors: Admin Yellow #16 (once we become predictable, we become vulnerable), Gold #8 (finance is the art of passing money hand to hand until it finally disappears), Octarine #18 (the moments that change your life are the ones that happen suddenly, like the one where you die)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas
Word Count: 1,058
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: More bad news for Finley Drake.
Note: Another rewrite. Sort of a companion piece to this, though this takes place before that one. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Finley was awakened by someone pounding on her door. Sitting up groggily, she muttered, "What?" Even though her curtains were shut, she could see that it was still dark outside, which meant someone had come to wake her up way too early. Now that she was an advanced cadet, she no longer had early morning classes.
"You have a visitor," said the person on the other side of the door. Finley recognized Henry's voice and rolled her eyes. She weighed the consequences of actually opening the door: practical jokes weren't Henry's style, but he had hated Finley since she had arrived at the Academy, and her promotion to the upper ranks of students had only made his enmity worse. He would be more than willing to see her humiliated, and there was no way she had a visitor at all, much less so early in the morning.
"Go away, Henry," she said.
There was silence on the other side of the door for a moment, and Finley could practically hear the man seething. Finally, he said, "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I was sent to give you a message. You have a visitor in the lounge. What you do with that information isn't my problem." Through the door, Finley could hear the sound of his boots--always so polished one could see themselves in them--clacking down the hallway until they faded into nothing.
Finley laid back against her pillow, considering. Henry could be bluffing, but subtlety also wasn't his style. Which meant she must really have a visitor. Which then begged the obvious question: who?
She groaned and sat up, wrapping a robe around herself before shuffling to her door. She didn't care if she was seen in her nightclothes with her tangled bed hair. Whoever had decided to visit her at this ridiculous hour deserved the eyesore. She made her way down the dark hallway and into the lounge, frowning as she neared it and heard voices. A lot of voices. Like there were students in the lounge.
And that was exactly what was happening, she saw as she entered the room. It wasn't nearly as busy as it was at peak evening hours, but there were about eight students scattered around the room in small groups, engaged in various activities. What were they doing up so early? Younger students especially didn't tend to get up early; they had little enough sleep as it was.
She didn't have long to dwell on it, though, because she immediately recognized the one person who didn't belong--he was dressed in a business suit, not the gray student uniform,. Finley found herself staring, disbelieving.
"Elliott?" she called, confused. What was he doing at the Academy? In the last letter she had received from him, he had mentioned he was being made a professor at the City University. The Academy was on the outskirts of the city, and far out of his way. The last time she had seen him had been during the last holiday break, the only time of the year when she left the Academy grounds.
He looked up from a brochure he was reading and beamed. "Finley!" Striding over to her, he opened his arms and drew her into a hug. Finley put up with it for a few moments, then wriggled away.
"What are you doing here, Elliott?"
"I have great news!" her brother said, still grinning.
Finley closed her eyes. "This couldn't have gone into a letter? Why did you come here in the middle of the night?"
"Middle of the night?" he repeated, looking puzzled. "It's not even midnight yet."
Finley groaned.
"Is there something wrong?" asked Elliott, the exuberance slipping from his voice.
"No," said Finley, waving a hand at him. "I just fell asleep early and now my schedule is all messed up. I thought it was morning." She opened her eyes to see Elliott watching her, looking concerned. "So, tell me your news."
He grinned again. "Joanna and I are getting married!"
Finley hadn't been smiling, which was a good thing. It was almost too much effort to keep a neutral expression on her face. "Oh," she said. "Well."
Elliott was practically glowing. "Of course we all knew it was coming, but I wanted to make sure I was financially secure before I asked. When I made professor, I thought, well, I should go ahead and just do it."
Finley refrained from pointing out that had he not wasted his inheritance on paying for Joanna to go to school--which she hadn't even finished--he wouldn't have to worry about being financially secure.
"Well?" said Elliott as the silence between the siblings stretched out. "Are you going to say anything?"
Finley forced a smile. It felt like her skin was being stretched too tightly across her mouth. "Congratulations."
The grin slipped off Elliott's face. "But?"
"But nothing," said Finley, shaking her head. "It's great news." She had hoped that her brother would come to his senses and leave Joanna. The woman had never been good enough for him, in Finley's opinion. They had been together for years, though, and the more time passed the more Finley despaired of her brother ever making the right decision. "But you could have put it in a letter. You're right; we all knew it was only a matter of time."
"I thought you might like the news in person," said Elliott, a stiffness entering his voice that Finley had never heard before. "You're out here all alone. We can barely get you to visit for holidays."
"I'm busy here," said Finley. What she really wanted to do was shake her brother until the stiffness was gone, until he talked to her like he had always used to, when she was the favorite baby sister that he doted on. But Joanna had gotten in the way of that in recent years, and now, Finley knew, there would forever be that gate between them. It wasn't fair. But this was inevitable and always had been.
"Well," said Elliott. "I should go."
"Yes," said Finley. "I was trying to sleep."
"I'll see you at the holidays," said Elliott. He slipped on his overcoat, nodded to her, and left the lounge.
Finley took a moment to gather her composure--she was not going to cry--and went back to bed.
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I confess to giggling.
Which just made Joanna's reaction to the news punch even harder, and it punched pretty damn hard for one of your gut punches as is.
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Thanks for reading!