2015 Birthday Promptathon - Day Three
I was going to post art today, but technical difficulties have dictated that it will be fic instead.
So here is another prompt from hazelwho. She asked for Pern - heartbeat, and my muse latched onto it right away. However, it went a... different route, as what it reminded me of was a Welcome to Night Vale episode where a list needed to be memorized. It ended "heartbeat. heartbeat. heart beat. beat." or something close to it (I did NOT memorize it).
Anyhow, that's what helped me find this bit of backstory for Ray, before he goes to Harper Hall.
Ray looked at the formula again, trying his best to memorize it. It just, the ingredients didn't make sense to him, any more than the steps did. He tapped his fingers on the table nervously as he studied, unconsciously matching patterns to the words as he went. A sharp kick to his ankle stopped him. He glared at his brother, but the look on the older boy's face stopped him before he could retaliate. A shadow crossed over him as his father leaned over to see what Ray was working on.
It was the same page he'd been on the last time his father had checked, and they both knew it. Ray's father sighed heavily, then went over to Tomas, smiling at the progress he'd made. Ray looked down again guiltily, settling his hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing. He kept his eyes on the page, even when the weight of his father's gaze was enough to seem like a physical presence.
As soon as his father had left, Ray was up and out of his chair. He ignored Tomas's protests as he fled the house, running as soon as he was out the door. He passed the Smith Hall without even seeing it, not stopping until his lungs burned and his heart beat hard enough to feel like it was about to burst from his chest. He leaned against a tree as he caught his breath, sinking to the ground to sit, back against the tree. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of his heart, no longer racing, but it still seemed still loud, his body one great pulsing beat.
His fingers started tapping against the ground, counterpoints to the beat, patterns growing more complex as he lost himself in the feel of the rhythm. Soon, his hands were slapping the ground, pounding out his anger. He worked in the sounds around him, a counterpoint to his angry rhythms. It grew more complex as he added the rustle of the leaves on the wind, the sound of voices in the Hall, of tools clanging. He lost himself in the music thrumming through his veins, pulsing like a second heart, just as vital, just as necessary. Finally his frustration settled enough that he could push it to the back of his mind. When he came to a stopping place, Ray ran a tired hand through his hair, mindless of the dirt on his hands. He sighed heavily as he stood, and braced himself for the scolding he'd be sure to get upon his return to the house. He resolved again to try harder, to show his father that both of his sons would be able to follow in his footsteps.
After all, what other skills did he have?
So here is another prompt from hazelwho. She asked for Pern - heartbeat, and my muse latched onto it right away. However, it went a... different route, as what it reminded me of was a Welcome to Night Vale episode where a list needed to be memorized. It ended "heartbeat. heartbeat. heart beat. beat." or something close to it (I did NOT memorize it).
Anyhow, that's what helped me find this bit of backstory for Ray, before he goes to Harper Hall.
Ray looked at the formula again, trying his best to memorize it. It just, the ingredients didn't make sense to him, any more than the steps did. He tapped his fingers on the table nervously as he studied, unconsciously matching patterns to the words as he went. A sharp kick to his ankle stopped him. He glared at his brother, but the look on the older boy's face stopped him before he could retaliate. A shadow crossed over him as his father leaned over to see what Ray was working on.
It was the same page he'd been on the last time his father had checked, and they both knew it. Ray's father sighed heavily, then went over to Tomas, smiling at the progress he'd made. Ray looked down again guiltily, settling his hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing. He kept his eyes on the page, even when the weight of his father's gaze was enough to seem like a physical presence.
As soon as his father had left, Ray was up and out of his chair. He ignored Tomas's protests as he fled the house, running as soon as he was out the door. He passed the Smith Hall without even seeing it, not stopping until his lungs burned and his heart beat hard enough to feel like it was about to burst from his chest. He leaned against a tree as he caught his breath, sinking to the ground to sit, back against the tree. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of his heart, no longer racing, but it still seemed still loud, his body one great pulsing beat.
His fingers started tapping against the ground, counterpoints to the beat, patterns growing more complex as he lost himself in the feel of the rhythm. Soon, his hands were slapping the ground, pounding out his anger. He worked in the sounds around him, a counterpoint to his angry rhythms. It grew more complex as he added the rustle of the leaves on the wind, the sound of voices in the Hall, of tools clanging. He lost himself in the music thrumming through his veins, pulsing like a second heart, just as vital, just as necessary. Finally his frustration settled enough that he could push it to the back of his mind. When he came to a stopping place, Ray ran a tired hand through his hair, mindless of the dirt on his hands. He sighed heavily as he stood, and braced himself for the scolding he'd be sure to get upon his return to the house. He resolved again to try harder, to show his father that both of his sons would be able to follow in his footsteps.
After all, what other skills did he have?