[Wild Roses] Stealing Fire
Title: Loki is SO getting a kick out of this
'Verse/characters: Stealing Fire; Yasha, Hazel, Lin
Prompt: 77C "adventure"
Word Count: 1114 1247
Notes: "Y'know, if you had enough personal ambition, you've got the makings for a really epic personal background legend."
This is one angle on the beginning of Stealing Fire.
---------
Hazel was stirring a cup of coffee absently with her butter knife, even though the remains of her fourth sugar packet was probably long since dissolved. She'd discovered she actually kind of liked coffee, if she poured enough sugar and cream in. Yasha, for his part, had a theory that he could probably do some sort of homeopathic dilution by dooring in the bottom of her cup and she'd never notice.
"Y'know," she said, as she let go of the butter knife, which swirled around another few times before tapping itself on the edge of the cup and returning it to her brown paper napkin, "if you had any personal ambition, you've got the makings for a really epic personal background legend."
Yasha gave her a look over his own half-empty cup. "How do you figure? I'm just a Door."
"Born in one reality, trained in a second, and working in a third, as well as the first two? C'mon, Yashushka, keep up with me here!"
He gave her a look he'd stolen from Trap for the nickname, which she had to have invented on the spot from hearing her sister mutter in whatever bastardised Russian she spoke, 'cause it sure wasn't classic Russian, then stood up, walked out of the cafe, dooring as he went into the bright sunshine outside the awning.
When he realised he could still her laughing three realities away, he decided fine. She wanted a chase? He'd give her a chase.
He lost her somewhere near what used to be New York, on Gaia, and then really lost her a half hour after that.
Shit. Had Lil been in town or something and Hazel'd tried following her?
Because the timing around that area was fucked--like trying to walk through Loki's washing machine while it was running. He could barely work his way in, and Hazel was actually kind of shit at doors. If she were less of a brat he'd toss her at Glass for some actual training, because she had a good eye for angles and her math wasn't completely abysmal, but she was a brat and there was no mistaking it.
Shit, he really couldn't feel her at all, no ping no tag, and what kind of lecture was he going to get from her family for losing her?
"Ah, pul me," he muttered, and went to go find a couple of automatics, just in case he got stuck tracking her down in that mess.
Which he didn't, and he paid a brief thanks to anyone who was listening when he found her bright and clear as a magis-built beacon right in the middle of an area he'd never pinged before.
"Hey," she said when he showed up, all but ripping the door open against its will and bracing his elbows against the edges to keep it open. She was still wearing the clothes she'd been in at the cafe, but she'd done enough wading in her jeans that she'd run the dye. He could actually see all the embroidery she had along the hems and seams of her pants, and her shirt had gone from pale gold linked up with grey and white to white and grey, mourning colours where she came from but she didn't seem to be minding it.
Ping, tag, assemble--"Freia's tit you've been here three weeks?"
"They had a flooding problem and no mages," she told him, easy in a way he'd never seen in her before, like some of the spastic had just . . burned off.
"Well. One mage," she amended, "but he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing, so I was running things anyway."
"I resemble that remark," an unfamiliar baritone said, and Yasha automatically pinged and met a blank fucking wall.
" . . Ow."
"Don't toss things at the paranoid," the new guy said, and he was dressed as nice as Hazel but just as softened and waterlog-changed as she was. Must be the locals' one mage--"we tend to block first and ask later." And that was an understatement if Yasha'd ever heard one, that slap had been heavy enough to stagger anyone and there was definitely harder where it came from.
"I'll keep that in mind," Yasha muttered, resisting the urge to rub his temple as he demanded "Who the hell are you?"
"I could ask you the same thing, considering you've dropped into my demenses unannounced. But since these are my lands, Jessamisiar an Niela--"
Yasha's jaw dropped, and he blurted "Pul me, you're Lil's cousin Lin."
The elf blinked at him, sleek dark head canting slightly to one side like a big, big cat pondering a particularly noisy mouse. " . . Yes, that too, I suppose, although it's technically 'uncle', not 'cousin'."
The one sane one--for given local parameters of 'sane' anyway--of the whole Vaerane side of Lil's extended family. And Hazel had just . . dropped in on him. As opposed to any of the others. He suppressed a groan. "Hazel?"
"Oui?" she said, eyes bright though she wasn't yet grinning, obviously not wanting to interrupt in case she missed something entertaining.
Yasha dropped his face into his hand, thumb pressing at his throbbing cheekbone. "Remember how you were saying I'd have a background legend if I ever amounted to something?"
" . . . Oui?"
"You just topped me. Really, really spectacular, we're talking broke the fucking record. Winter."
She gave him a sunny grin. "I never said I wasn't speaking from experience. Hey, Lin, since he's distracted, that's Yasha. My favourite cousin stole him, so he's kinda family. You get used to the ranting."
"Oh, I hope not, this promises to be entertaining," Lin murmured before raising his voice to inquire "You'd be the friend she was expecting would show up sometime?"
Yasha thought about trying to explain that one, and then mentally threw up his hands. " . . Yeah, that'll work. I lost her a couple of hours ago in my personal timeline."
"I was kinda wondering what was taking you so long," Hazel said cheerfully, then stretched, pressing her palms up towards the ceiling. "Lin, we sorted for the plans?"
"I believe so; you said something about--"
"Oh, right, 'ci, here--" she dug through her pockets, then scowled, came over, and frisked Yasha fast enough he barely registered what she was up to before she was done and holding up a hollow-point bullet from one of the automatics' magazines. "That'll do."
She pressed the bullet between her palms hard enough Yasha was vaguely worried she'd set it off by pressure-heat, then twisted, and the bullet . . wasn't a bullet anymore, but a metal willow-leaf roughly the visual weight the bullet'd been, steel grey body embellished in brass as the bullet had been jacketed in brass. "Name, need, and the room--" she told Lin as she dropped the leaf into his open palm.
"DId you just give him a way to summon you?" Yasha demanded in the court-language, because odds were best that Lin wouldn't be able to follow that one.
Hazel gave him a glance, then did a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not going to leave him with no way to call for help if he needs it and he thinks I can give it," she replied in the same language, and suddenly Yasha could actually see the Sabaey, under the distracting light of her usual behaviour.
"Thank you," Lin said softly, in English, and Hazel looked back at him, something weird and warm in her eyes.
"De rien," she said sincerely. "I was there anyway."
'Verse/characters: Stealing Fire; Yasha, Hazel, Lin
Prompt: 77C "adventure"
Word Count: 1114 1247
Notes: "Y'know, if you had enough personal ambition, you've got the makings for a really epic personal background legend."
This is one angle on the beginning of Stealing Fire.
---------
Hazel was stirring a cup of coffee absently with her butter knife, even though the remains of her fourth sugar packet was probably long since dissolved. She'd discovered she actually kind of liked coffee, if she poured enough sugar and cream in. Yasha, for his part, had a theory that he could probably do some sort of homeopathic dilution by dooring in the bottom of her cup and she'd never notice.
"Y'know," she said, as she let go of the butter knife, which swirled around another few times before tapping itself on the edge of the cup and returning it to her brown paper napkin, "if you had any personal ambition, you've got the makings for a really epic personal background legend."
Yasha gave her a look over his own half-empty cup. "How do you figure? I'm just a Door."
"Born in one reality, trained in a second, and working in a third, as well as the first two? C'mon, Yashushka, keep up with me here!"
He gave her a look he'd stolen from Trap for the nickname, which she had to have invented on the spot from hearing her sister mutter in whatever bastardised Russian she spoke, 'cause it sure wasn't classic Russian, then stood up, walked out of the cafe, dooring as he went into the bright sunshine outside the awning.
When he realised he could still her laughing three realities away, he decided fine. She wanted a chase? He'd give her a chase.
He lost her somewhere near what used to be New York, on Gaia, and then really lost her a half hour after that.
Shit. Had Lil been in town or something and Hazel'd tried following her?
Because the timing around that area was fucked--like trying to walk through Loki's washing machine while it was running. He could barely work his way in, and Hazel was actually kind of shit at doors. If she were less of a brat he'd toss her at Glass for some actual training, because she had a good eye for angles and her math wasn't completely abysmal, but she was a brat and there was no mistaking it.
Shit, he really couldn't feel her at all, no ping no tag, and what kind of lecture was he going to get from her family for losing her?
"Ah, pul me," he muttered, and went to go find a couple of automatics, just in case he got stuck tracking her down in that mess.
Which he didn't, and he paid a brief thanks to anyone who was listening when he found her bright and clear as a magis-built beacon right in the middle of an area he'd never pinged before.
"Hey," she said when he showed up, all but ripping the door open against its will and bracing his elbows against the edges to keep it open. She was still wearing the clothes she'd been in at the cafe, but she'd done enough wading in her jeans that she'd run the dye. He could actually see all the embroidery she had along the hems and seams of her pants, and her shirt had gone from pale gold linked up with grey and white to white and grey, mourning colours where she came from but she didn't seem to be minding it.
Ping, tag, assemble--"Freia's tit you've been here three weeks?"
"They had a flooding problem and no mages," she told him, easy in a way he'd never seen in her before, like some of the spastic had just . . burned off.
"Well. One mage," she amended, "but he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing, so I was running things anyway."
"I resemble that remark," an unfamiliar baritone said, and Yasha automatically pinged and met a blank fucking wall.
" . . Ow."
"Don't toss things at the paranoid," the new guy said, and he was dressed as nice as Hazel but just as softened and waterlog-changed as she was. Must be the locals' one mage--"we tend to block first and ask later." And that was an understatement if Yasha'd ever heard one, that slap had been heavy enough to stagger anyone and there was definitely harder where it came from.
"I'll keep that in mind," Yasha muttered, resisting the urge to rub his temple as he demanded "Who the hell are you?"
"I could ask you the same thing, considering you've dropped into my demenses unannounced. But since these are my lands, Jessamisiar an Niela--"
Yasha's jaw dropped, and he blurted "Pul me, you're Lil's cousin Lin."
The elf blinked at him, sleek dark head canting slightly to one side like a big, big cat pondering a particularly noisy mouse. " . . Yes, that too, I suppose, although it's technically 'uncle', not 'cousin'."
The one sane one--for given local parameters of 'sane' anyway--of the whole Vaerane side of Lil's extended family. And Hazel had just . . dropped in on him. As opposed to any of the others. He suppressed a groan. "Hazel?"
"Oui?" she said, eyes bright though she wasn't yet grinning, obviously not wanting to interrupt in case she missed something entertaining.
Yasha dropped his face into his hand, thumb pressing at his throbbing cheekbone. "Remember how you were saying I'd have a background legend if I ever amounted to something?"
" . . . Oui?"
"You just topped me. Really, really spectacular, we're talking broke the fucking record. Winter."
She gave him a sunny grin. "I never said I wasn't speaking from experience. Hey, Lin, since he's distracted, that's Yasha. My favourite cousin stole him, so he's kinda family. You get used to the ranting."
"Oh, I hope not, this promises to be entertaining," Lin murmured before raising his voice to inquire "You'd be the friend she was expecting would show up sometime?"
Yasha thought about trying to explain that one, and then mentally threw up his hands. " . . Yeah, that'll work. I lost her a couple of hours ago in my personal timeline."
"I was kinda wondering what was taking you so long," Hazel said cheerfully, then stretched, pressing her palms up towards the ceiling. "Lin, we sorted for the plans?"
"I believe so; you said something about--"
"Oh, right, 'ci, here--" she dug through her pockets, then scowled, came over, and frisked Yasha fast enough he barely registered what she was up to before she was done and holding up a hollow-point bullet from one of the automatics' magazines. "That'll do."
She pressed the bullet between her palms hard enough Yasha was vaguely worried she'd set it off by pressure-heat, then twisted, and the bullet . . wasn't a bullet anymore, but a metal willow-leaf roughly the visual weight the bullet'd been, steel grey body embellished in brass as the bullet had been jacketed in brass. "Name, need, and the room--" she told Lin as she dropped the leaf into his open palm.
"DId you just give him a way to summon you?" Yasha demanded in the court-language, because odds were best that Lin wouldn't be able to follow that one.
Hazel gave him a glance, then did a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not going to leave him with no way to call for help if he needs it and he thinks I can give it," she replied in the same language, and suddenly Yasha could actually see the Sabaey, under the distracting light of her usual behaviour.
"Thank you," Lin said softly, in English, and Hazel looked back at him, something weird and warm in her eyes.
"De rien," she said sincerely. "I was there anyway."