Fic: Runaway (S&S Prompt fic)
Title: Runaway
Author: lost_spook
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 604
Characters/Pairings: Cerium, Copper (OCs)
Warnings None, or Circuses, wilful obscurity (again)
Summary: Cerium hasn’t run away; something’s run away with her. (Prompt 42: Cerium & Copper - Ran away to join the circus & Vampires.)
Notes : Cerium was the reason I was looking at the periodic table in the first place; I just haven’t managed to do that story properly yet (I wanted an element that was in someway fragile/unreliable in its nature and how that might work out, so she’s sort of the Luna Lovegood of the Elements, I suppose.) Copper, I wrote once before; he is based on conversations from Assignment 1 and the BFA Zero (and it turned out the person I’d pictured was James Maxwell, who was Jackson in Underworld, so my brain is strange). The vampires are… not really present, or only in a vague metaphorical sense. This occurs sometime around the 1920s-1940s (so it’s not a modern circus).
Hopefully, it will be accessible as a weird S&S scene. (But I understand that no one’s going to be going, “Ooh, yay, Copper and Cerium and a circus!” Except me.)
***
Cerium sits on a wooden seat, the only visitor in the otherwise empty circus tent. In the ring below, the tightrope walker practices his act, and she watches.
“You didn’t return with the others. They wondered if you… if you had tried to leave.”
The Big Top seems darker suddenly, but maybe it’s only the shadow cast over her by the man who is now sitting beside her. She’s never thought of Copper as a threat before. She’s never managed to be as wary of her colleagues as they often seem to be of her, and of each other.
“No, no that,” she says. She remains looking at the man walking along the wire; she hasn’t glanced aside at Copper yet. “It wasn’t that. I…” Her voice trails away, for she doesn’t understand it herself, not in a way she knows how to express or explain. It’s not this place. She can sense darker undercurrents here that she doesn’t want to explore, some of those very human things: there’s a constant sense of fear, or pressure; there’s a bright surface and a more mundane reality underneath - and then there are the animals. She had seen lions and tigers when she made her way in here. Animals in captivity. She shivers inside herself at the thought. She doesn’t like that.
Copper is still waiting for her to continue.
I came here, she says, for want of anything better. I didn’t leave.
“Ah.” Copper turns on the seat beside her, and she knows he’s looking at her, studying her face. “I think I understand. Time forced an identity on you? Or you took one yourself to deceive it.”
Cerium nods. I didn’t know it would be like that. She wanted… She wanted more than she had. So strongly… I didn’t know.
“Yes,” says Copper, although lightly, without emphasis. “It’s easier for some of us than others, it seems.”
She finally turns her head to look at him. “I do like them,” she says, with a sudden, characteristic side-step that some of her other colleagues find worrying. “Humans. Perhaps that’s why. It was only that I didn’t want… I didn’t want for both of us to be left in the dark. It’s a long wait between assignments.”
“Is it?”
“Not for you,” she says, although she’s matter of fact, with no trace of bitterness. “I - she - wanted to see things. To have freedom and colour and life. She wanted to start here. I didn’t see why she shouldn’t.”
Copper says nothing. He waits calmly, watching her. In the centre, away from them the tightrope walker reaches the other end of the wire.
Cerium closes her eyes. There are… tears. She hasn’t wept before. The sensation is curious; she thinks she rather likes it.
Copper leans across and, even with her eyes closed, she knows he’s wearing that so-slight smile on his face, and he takes her head in both his hands and kisses her on the forehead. It’s a dispassionate but deliberate gesture; a connection to displace the other.
She lets go of the alien emotions, feels them falling away with the tears.
“It won’t be that long,” says Copper, as she opens her eyes again. “You are useful. They know that. They won’t spare you, not when you’re needed.”
Cerium leans back, and tilts her head to one side before smiling, fully herself again. “Yes. I didn’t… It wasn’t…”
“I know.”
And they fade away together, while she’s still wondering why the humans should think so much of running away to join the circus. She doesn’t see why: there’s no freedom here, only yet more cages.
***
(I promise the next one will at least have Elements We Have Met in.)
Author: lost_spook
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 604
Characters/Pairings: Cerium, Copper (OCs)
Warnings None, or Circuses, wilful obscurity (again)
Summary: Cerium hasn’t run away; something’s run away with her. (Prompt 42: Cerium & Copper - Ran away to join the circus & Vampires.)
Notes : Cerium was the reason I was looking at the periodic table in the first place; I just haven’t managed to do that story properly yet (I wanted an element that was in someway fragile/unreliable in its nature and how that might work out, so she’s sort of the Luna Lovegood of the Elements, I suppose.) Copper, I wrote once before; he is based on conversations from Assignment 1 and the BFA Zero (and it turned out the person I’d pictured was James Maxwell, who was Jackson in Underworld, so my brain is strange). The vampires are… not really present, or only in a vague metaphorical sense. This occurs sometime around the 1920s-1940s (so it’s not a modern circus).
Hopefully, it will be accessible as a weird S&S scene. (But I understand that no one’s going to be going, “Ooh, yay, Copper and Cerium and a circus!” Except me.)
***
Cerium sits on a wooden seat, the only visitor in the otherwise empty circus tent. In the ring below, the tightrope walker practices his act, and she watches.
“You didn’t return with the others. They wondered if you… if you had tried to leave.”
The Big Top seems darker suddenly, but maybe it’s only the shadow cast over her by the man who is now sitting beside her. She’s never thought of Copper as a threat before. She’s never managed to be as wary of her colleagues as they often seem to be of her, and of each other.
“No, no that,” she says. She remains looking at the man walking along the wire; she hasn’t glanced aside at Copper yet. “It wasn’t that. I…” Her voice trails away, for she doesn’t understand it herself, not in a way she knows how to express or explain. It’s not this place. She can sense darker undercurrents here that she doesn’t want to explore, some of those very human things: there’s a constant sense of fear, or pressure; there’s a bright surface and a more mundane reality underneath - and then there are the animals. She had seen lions and tigers when she made her way in here. Animals in captivity. She shivers inside herself at the thought. She doesn’t like that.
Copper is still waiting for her to continue.
I came here, she says, for want of anything better. I didn’t leave.
“Ah.” Copper turns on the seat beside her, and she knows he’s looking at her, studying her face. “I think I understand. Time forced an identity on you? Or you took one yourself to deceive it.”
Cerium nods. I didn’t know it would be like that. She wanted… She wanted more than she had. So strongly… I didn’t know.
“Yes,” says Copper, although lightly, without emphasis. “It’s easier for some of us than others, it seems.”
She finally turns her head to look at him. “I do like them,” she says, with a sudden, characteristic side-step that some of her other colleagues find worrying. “Humans. Perhaps that’s why. It was only that I didn’t want… I didn’t want for both of us to be left in the dark. It’s a long wait between assignments.”
“Is it?”
“Not for you,” she says, although she’s matter of fact, with no trace of bitterness. “I - she - wanted to see things. To have freedom and colour and life. She wanted to start here. I didn’t see why she shouldn’t.”
Copper says nothing. He waits calmly, watching her. In the centre, away from them the tightrope walker reaches the other end of the wire.
Cerium closes her eyes. There are… tears. She hasn’t wept before. The sensation is curious; she thinks she rather likes it.
Copper leans across and, even with her eyes closed, she knows he’s wearing that so-slight smile on his face, and he takes her head in both his hands and kisses her on the forehead. It’s a dispassionate but deliberate gesture; a connection to displace the other.
She lets go of the alien emotions, feels them falling away with the tears.
“It won’t be that long,” says Copper, as she opens her eyes again. “You are useful. They know that. They won’t spare you, not when you’re needed.”
Cerium leans back, and tilts her head to one side before smiling, fully herself again. “Yes. I didn’t… It wasn’t…”
“I know.”
And they fade away together, while she’s still wondering why the humans should think so much of running away to join the circus. She doesn’t see why: there’s no freedom here, only yet more cages.
***
(I promise the next one will at least have Elements We Have Met in.)