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rainbowfic2014-07-07 10:53 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2014-07-07 10:53 pm
Amaranth #5, Crane White #14
Name: kay_brooke
Story: David/Cleaner
Colors: Amaranth #5 (stars), Crane White #14 (I will come on the breath of the wind)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Seed Beads
Word Count: 626
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Cera's first trip over.
Note: Originally written for a prompt call. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
She came through sputtering and choking, a lead weight against her chest as she gasped for air, and the first thing she saw was Troy’s face hovering over her, saying, “Breathe.”
It took a moment for Cera to understand the order, and then yet another to follow it, as if her body had forgotten how. But obedience was ingrained even deeper than physiology, so she wheezed, and the air flowed, and the weight lessened.
“Good,” said Troy, standing up. She was on the floor, Cera realized, a hard, pockmarked concrete floor in the middle of an empty building so long she couldn’t see either end in the gathering gloom. Broken windows lining the ceiling showed the deep blue of encroaching evening. It had been not quite noon when she left.
“I’ll never get used to that,” she said, standing up on shaky legs. Troy had already moved to a rickety table holding a series of...were those computers? Impossible. Look how small they were. But he was typing away on a keyboard, so she went to peer over his shoulder at the screen.
“They have a phrase here,” said Troy, not ceasing his typing while Cera marveled at the keyboard. The letters were almost the same, but arranged in a completely different order. “For that feeling you get when your sense of time is all askew. Jet-lag.”
She repeated the nonsense phrase and filed it away under idioms it might be useful to know.
Troy tapped a last key, straightened, and handed her a watch with a large black strap. The numbers had already started counting down from forty-eight: hours, minutes, seconds. “This is a stopwatch. Put it on your wrist or keep it in your pocket, I don’t care. Just don’t lose it. Don’t touch any of the buttons. An alarm will sound at six hours out, then again at three. At six hours, finish up what you’re doing and return here. If you’re still tied up when the three hour alarm sounds, you are to cease your task immediately and get back. I don’t care if you’re in the middle of dinner with the President himself, you leave, understood? I won’t be held responsible for your molecular deconstruction if you stay over.”
She swallowed and took the watch, slipping it into her pocket. “Is that a possibility? Dinner with the President?” She couldn’t imagine having dinner with her President. She’d be too terrified for her life.
Troy smirked at her. “We’re not that far in, and you wouldn’t be the one to go even if we were.”
“Of course not,” said Cera, ducking her head. She was new blood, out on her first trip. She’d never be able to pass as a citizen of this world, not until she had a lot more experience. “So what is my mission?”
“It’s your first, so it’ll be easy,” Troy said. “You and I are to meet with a contact later tonight. He is called Doctor Monroe. He has something for us, but we’ll need your knowledge of chemistry. We’ll be back by morning, hopefully. You shouldn’t even need the full forty-eight hours.”
“You have my return device?” asked Cera.
“I do, and I’ll keep it for now,” said Troy. “Can’t have you turning coward and abandoning us.”
Her first instinct was to feel offended, but she did understand. She was new blood, and new blood couldn’t be trusted until they had proven themselves. So she merely nodded.
“There are shower facilities down there,” said Troy, pointing to the far end of the building. “Clean yourself and find Tam. She’ll get you the clothes you’ll need.”
“Thank you for this opportunity,” said Cera, before setting off for the showers.
kay_brookeStory: David/Cleaner
Colors: Amaranth #5 (stars), Crane White #14 (I will come on the breath of the wind)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Seed Beads
Word Count: 626
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Cera's first trip over.
Note: Originally written for a prompt call. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
She came through sputtering and choking, a lead weight against her chest as she gasped for air, and the first thing she saw was Troy’s face hovering over her, saying, “Breathe.”
It took a moment for Cera to understand the order, and then yet another to follow it, as if her body had forgotten how. But obedience was ingrained even deeper than physiology, so she wheezed, and the air flowed, and the weight lessened.
“Good,” said Troy, standing up. She was on the floor, Cera realized, a hard, pockmarked concrete floor in the middle of an empty building so long she couldn’t see either end in the gathering gloom. Broken windows lining the ceiling showed the deep blue of encroaching evening. It had been not quite noon when she left.
“I’ll never get used to that,” she said, standing up on shaky legs. Troy had already moved to a rickety table holding a series of...were those computers? Impossible. Look how small they were. But he was typing away on a keyboard, so she went to peer over his shoulder at the screen.
“They have a phrase here,” said Troy, not ceasing his typing while Cera marveled at the keyboard. The letters were almost the same, but arranged in a completely different order. “For that feeling you get when your sense of time is all askew. Jet-lag.”
She repeated the nonsense phrase and filed it away under idioms it might be useful to know.
Troy tapped a last key, straightened, and handed her a watch with a large black strap. The numbers had already started counting down from forty-eight: hours, minutes, seconds. “This is a stopwatch. Put it on your wrist or keep it in your pocket, I don’t care. Just don’t lose it. Don’t touch any of the buttons. An alarm will sound at six hours out, then again at three. At six hours, finish up what you’re doing and return here. If you’re still tied up when the three hour alarm sounds, you are to cease your task immediately and get back. I don’t care if you’re in the middle of dinner with the President himself, you leave, understood? I won’t be held responsible for your molecular deconstruction if you stay over.”
She swallowed and took the watch, slipping it into her pocket. “Is that a possibility? Dinner with the President?” She couldn’t imagine having dinner with her President. She’d be too terrified for her life.
Troy smirked at her. “We’re not that far in, and you wouldn’t be the one to go even if we were.”
“Of course not,” said Cera, ducking her head. She was new blood, out on her first trip. She’d never be able to pass as a citizen of this world, not until she had a lot more experience. “So what is my mission?”
“It’s your first, so it’ll be easy,” Troy said. “You and I are to meet with a contact later tonight. He is called Doctor Monroe. He has something for us, but we’ll need your knowledge of chemistry. We’ll be back by morning, hopefully. You shouldn’t even need the full forty-eight hours.”
“You have my return device?” asked Cera.
“I do, and I’ll keep it for now,” said Troy. “Can’t have you turning coward and abandoning us.”
Her first instinct was to feel offended, but she did understand. She was new blood, and new blood couldn’t be trusted until they had proven themselves. So she merely nodded.
“There are shower facilities down there,” said Troy, pointing to the far end of the building. “Clean yourself and find Tam. She’ll get you the clothes you’ll need.”
“Thank you for this opportunity,” said Cera, before setting off for the showers.
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Nice, tight scene here. Might have to find time to look for more of this.
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Thanks for reading!
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I really enjoyed reading Cera's mindset here. Thank you for posting it!
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