amaranthh (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greenling) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2014-09-04 03:21 pm
greenling) wrote in rainbowfic2014-09-04 03:21 pm
Entry tags:
Ibiza Blue #13, Famous #16
Name: Greenling
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Ibiza Blue #13 (Ulrich Schnauss - Inconvenient Truths), Famous #16 (The moon lights her way while she's howlin' at him)
Supplies and Styles: None
Word Count: 804
Rating: PG
Warnings: Nope.
Summary: Peace has secrets, Dmitry learns things, life gets worse. Snippets from the slow march to the end of Arc 1.
Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.
"I know who you are," she didn't say, though she was thinking it. "I know why you're running. I'm not your enemy. Let me tell you a story."
That was what she would have said, if they'd had time. If they'd met under other circumstances. Maybe she would have said it anyway, if she hadn't seen in his eyes that Kevin had been talking about her. Kevin was the antithesis of chatty, so it probably wasn't much, but as soon as Peace came in the door he started looking at her like she was ringing his doorbell with a Book of Mormon. He was kind of cute when he was uncomfortable. And at all other times.
Diana had A Type and she knew it. It wasn't her fault.
"Relax. I just want to talk," she said instead. "You don't have to run."
*
Apocalypses required a lot of salt, Dmitry had learned. Salt, granola bars, lighter fluid, and duct tape. Bottled water, flashlights and batteries, and blankets were scavenged from the hotel. Someone had brought a box, much larger than he could imagine necessary, of prepaid phone cards and cheap grocery store-surplus cell phones. Plus all the weaponry, kevlar, and random crap they could drag out of the police station, of course. Dmitry wondered how much of that might not be going back.
Outside of himself and the vampire kid, not quite a dozen people wandered around the hotel, sorting, unpacking, fortifying, boarding, and in a few deeply exhausted cases, finding places to sleep. From some of the lists he was given, there must have been at least twenty more outside, searching for evidence of what had created the demons and the horrible rift in the sky. Everyone looked at the sword, no one asked about it; with help, he made a belt and sheath for it out of some knotted fabric and a couple of zip ties. It irked him on some annoying, base level that the sword wasn't free, but if the damn thing could cut through stone he didn't doubt it could wrench itself free of the ties. Or that he could wrench it- hopefully the sword didn't have the power to move on its own.
The group was disproportionately athletic to downright-muscular twenty-somethings, leaning male, which Dmitry did not mind in the slightest, but they didn't seem to be a single group. Dmitry wasn't much of a people person at the best of times, so he didn't pay much attention, but it was hard to miss the rift between the ones chatting up a storm with each other and the others who looked even more awkward than he was.
Unfortunately, at some point one of them decided to talk to him.
*
"Let me take you out to dinner. If- that is- if we get out if here alive."
Peace was suddenly very aware of the space between himself and Dmitry, and how much smaller it had gotten in the past few minutes.
As soon as he'd gotten to the hotel, he'd seen Dmitry leaving in a huff; Peace had followed him in hopes of... well, he had thought to himself that he'd wanted to help, but he was also incredibly curious. He'd done a good job at helping, at least. Dmitry cheered up almost as soon as Peace found him. His tone was light and his smile was mischievous. At some point he'd edged closer and leaned in. And then...
"I-"
Peace didn't know where to go from there. He didn't know where he wanted to go from there. Dmitry looked away, still smiling.
"It's... I can't think about that right now. I have stuff," was the closest he could get.
"'Stuff'?" Dmitry said, eyebrow skeptically quirked. He resisted the urge to turn Dmitry's chin back around to look at him. Mixed messages were bad.
"Uhm. Yeah. When we- when this is over, maybe I'll tell you, okay?" Peace attempted an apologetic smile.
"Man, I know it's not great timing," Dmitry replied. His face settled down into an unreadable expression. "Just... don't run off, okay?"
Peace was starting to notice a pattern to his conversations today.
*
"Take my hand."
"Why?"
"Please."
Dmitry and Diana stared each other down, faces firm and unblinking. He hesitated, maybe a second, maybe much longer, the tension between them heavy like a storm. Finally, something shifted. He took her hand, not breaking eye contact.
An odd look came over Diana, and she sighed softly. "Can you actually fight with that sword?"
*
The storm on the horizon flickered with candy-cane lightning. Tiny motes of light flickered and moved in front of Kevin, each swarm representing a squad on the ground.
Rotation had turned into strategic retreat, retreat to desperation. There were too many and too few of them; he grit his teeth as lights began to gutter.
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Ibiza Blue #13 (Ulrich Schnauss - Inconvenient Truths), Famous #16 (The moon lights her way while she's howlin' at him)
Supplies and Styles: None
Word Count: 804
Rating: PG
Warnings: Nope.
Summary: Peace has secrets, Dmitry learns things, life gets worse. Snippets from the slow march to the end of Arc 1.
Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.
"I know who you are," she didn't say, though she was thinking it. "I know why you're running. I'm not your enemy. Let me tell you a story."
That was what she would have said, if they'd had time. If they'd met under other circumstances. Maybe she would have said it anyway, if she hadn't seen in his eyes that Kevin had been talking about her. Kevin was the antithesis of chatty, so it probably wasn't much, but as soon as Peace came in the door he started looking at her like she was ringing his doorbell with a Book of Mormon. He was kind of cute when he was uncomfortable. And at all other times.
Diana had A Type and she knew it. It wasn't her fault.
"Relax. I just want to talk," she said instead. "You don't have to run."
*
Apocalypses required a lot of salt, Dmitry had learned. Salt, granola bars, lighter fluid, and duct tape. Bottled water, flashlights and batteries, and blankets were scavenged from the hotel. Someone had brought a box, much larger than he could imagine necessary, of prepaid phone cards and cheap grocery store-surplus cell phones. Plus all the weaponry, kevlar, and random crap they could drag out of the police station, of course. Dmitry wondered how much of that might not be going back.
Outside of himself and the vampire kid, not quite a dozen people wandered around the hotel, sorting, unpacking, fortifying, boarding, and in a few deeply exhausted cases, finding places to sleep. From some of the lists he was given, there must have been at least twenty more outside, searching for evidence of what had created the demons and the horrible rift in the sky. Everyone looked at the sword, no one asked about it; with help, he made a belt and sheath for it out of some knotted fabric and a couple of zip ties. It irked him on some annoying, base level that the sword wasn't free, but if the damn thing could cut through stone he didn't doubt it could wrench itself free of the ties. Or that he could wrench it- hopefully the sword didn't have the power to move on its own.
The group was disproportionately athletic to downright-muscular twenty-somethings, leaning male, which Dmitry did not mind in the slightest, but they didn't seem to be a single group. Dmitry wasn't much of a people person at the best of times, so he didn't pay much attention, but it was hard to miss the rift between the ones chatting up a storm with each other and the others who looked even more awkward than he was.
Unfortunately, at some point one of them decided to talk to him.
*
"Let me take you out to dinner. If- that is- if we get out if here alive."
Peace was suddenly very aware of the space between himself and Dmitry, and how much smaller it had gotten in the past few minutes.
As soon as he'd gotten to the hotel, he'd seen Dmitry leaving in a huff; Peace had followed him in hopes of... well, he had thought to himself that he'd wanted to help, but he was also incredibly curious. He'd done a good job at helping, at least. Dmitry cheered up almost as soon as Peace found him. His tone was light and his smile was mischievous. At some point he'd edged closer and leaned in. And then...
"I-"
Peace didn't know where to go from there. He didn't know where he wanted to go from there. Dmitry looked away, still smiling.
"It's... I can't think about that right now. I have stuff," was the closest he could get.
"'Stuff'?" Dmitry said, eyebrow skeptically quirked. He resisted the urge to turn Dmitry's chin back around to look at him. Mixed messages were bad.
"Uhm. Yeah. When we- when this is over, maybe I'll tell you, okay?" Peace attempted an apologetic smile.
"Man, I know it's not great timing," Dmitry replied. His face settled down into an unreadable expression. "Just... don't run off, okay?"
Peace was starting to notice a pattern to his conversations today.
*
"Take my hand."
"Why?"
"Please."
Dmitry and Diana stared each other down, faces firm and unblinking. He hesitated, maybe a second, maybe much longer, the tension between them heavy like a storm. Finally, something shifted. He took her hand, not breaking eye contact.
An odd look came over Diana, and she sighed softly. "Can you actually fight with that sword?"
*
The storm on the horizon flickered with candy-cane lightning. Tiny motes of light flickered and moved in front of Kevin, each swarm representing a squad on the ground.
Rotation had turned into strategic retreat, retreat to desperation. There were too many and too few of them; he grit his teeth as lights began to gutter.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject