(no subject)
Author: etacanis
Challenge: Chocolate Chili #18 - Condemnation, Blueberry Yogurt #2 - Homecoming, Strawberry #28 - Waves.
Rating: PG.
Story: Subhuman
Word count: 582
Summary: I was 'rebellious' and I 'was out of the box' and I 'made waves'.
Timeline: Before the start of the main story, Sacha is 19.
Notes: Just something a little more light hearted! I'm still working through the backlog of pieces I've written and not posted =_= Tanner is just a friend, in case you were wondering :) You'll be seeing him again, at least twice.
Sacha stared down at the letter in his hand, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.
“What's that?” Tanner asked, dropping onto the ratty sofa next to him and leaning over to look at the paper.
“School reunion. Sixth form,” Sacha explained, holding out the piece of paper. Tanner frowned, taking the letter and staring down at it.
“But...you're nineteen. You've been out of that school for what, a year?” Sacha nodded. “Why the hell do you need a school reunion already?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Sacha sighed, taking the paper back from Tanner and screwing it up into a ball and tossing it in the vague direction of the bin. Tanner watched this with an amused expression on his face and waited for Sacha to flop backwards again, half onto Tanner before he started interrogating him.
“I take it you're not going then?” Sacha gave him the look at that question, the look Sacha gave to anyone he thought was stupid. “Why not?” Sacha snorted at that question.
“Oh, you know,” He sighed, flapping his hand randomly. “Something to do with the fact they hated me because I was 'rebellious' and I 'was out of the box' and I 'made waves'. My teachers words, not mine, by the way. I was just too fucking weird.”
“Still are, Sacha,” Tanner muttered, earning a glare and a kick from the other man. “Alright, alright, you're completely normal.” Sacha beamed at that, leaning forward to press a dry kiss to Tanner's cheek. “What time is it?” There was a pause as Sacha looked around the room for a clock that didn't exist, that he knew didn't exist because he hadn't bought one, before he shrugged.
“Eightish?” He arched his neck to look round and peer out of the window. “Street lights are still on. Sevenish.” Tanner nodded at that, then groaned and ran a hand over his face.
“I better be going to work,” He sighed, pushing Sacha's so he could get up. “Are you going to work today?” He asked, through a stretch and a yawn. Sacha seemed to contemplate the idea for a few seconds, actually considering going to work to stand around making coffee until he stank for ungrateful, impolite gits for a few moments, before he screwed up his nose and shook his head.
“Nah.”
“Aren't you nearly on probation with your boss though?” Sacha nodded, rolling his neck to stare up at the ceiling. He flicked his middle finger against his thumb as he did so, a mindless habit, nothing important, just a sign that Tanner had come to realize meant that Sacha was craving a cigarette and bored. “Guess it doesn't bother you, huh? Sacha nodded again, turning his head to grin at Tanner.
“With a face like this, I can get any job I want, babe,” He purred. Tanner rolled his eyes and snorted.
“As a prostitute, yeah,” He muttered. Sacha, for once, didn't seem to take offense, and just stuck is tongue out. “Alright then, see you later, Sach,” He said, waving at Sacha pointlessly, considering he was currently closing his eyes and snuggling into the sofa. Back to sleep then, apparently. Tanner rolled his eyes again, making sure to close the door quietly behind him and to lock it tightly. He wouldn't put it past Sacha to sleep through someone breaking in.
Author: etacanis
Challenge: Molasses #15 - The Usual Suspects
Rating: PG.
Story: Subhuman
Word count: 714
Summary: That's so probable, it's almost definite. Every future leads to that.
Notes: I needed a way to explain (at least some of) the infections. And I needed a way for Naomi and Jack to meet, and this fits both :) So if you were wondering what I was rambling on about with infections and such, this should help a tad :D
Naomi smiles at the child, taking his small hand in hers. He's terrified, she knows. He's scared of what will happen if he gets his answers wrong (nothing). He's worried about getting them right, she suspects. The knowledge stays with you for years, and it only hits you when you're older, older than this seven year old boy. He'll get them right, she knows. He'll say some things that society have taught him, and not her, but he'll get them right.
“The ankou,” She starts, brushing her thumb over small knuckles. “Tell me about the ankou.”
“The ankou,” The boy repeats. His pronunciation is wrong, but that's nothing. “The ankou see death...It's a genetic...” He pauses, biting his lip.
“Condition. It's a genetic condition,” Naomi urges, and the boy nods.
“It's a genetic condition what's really rare.” It's not her job to correct his grammar. She bites her tongue. “Only sixteen people have it!” He beams at that, he's proud, and Naomi smiles too.
“What level are they?” She asks and the boy bites his lip again.
“Harmless?” The boy hazards a guess, and Naomi nods. The boy practically shines with pride now, and Naomi knows he'll tell his mama how well he did.
“The albasti?” Naomi asks, and the boy frowns. This one is hard, she knows. This one is bridging the gap between harmless and so very, very dangerous. This one is too dark for a seven year old child, but he has to know.
“The albasti...are women.” A pause. “Women who stick together like friends, and...and they don't like boys.” Men, technically. But Naomi knows that when you're young, there's no difference. “Boys who did something really bad.” Naomi nods, her smile still in place.
“And the Fey? What about us?” Her smile is comforting, her hair shining golden in the light streaming through the window.
“You can see the future!” The boy's hand slips out of Naomi's and he claps excitedly, childishly. He thinks that's the coolest thing in the world, unable to think of how very hard it is.
“How many futures?” Naomi asks.
“Loads of 'em! Loads of futures what might happen! And the...” Another pause; Naomi wants to help him. “And the prob-probable one!” Naomi grins at that, and nods.
“And now, the last one?” It's not the last, not by a long way, but some things are far too dark, far too scary, far too adult for now. He'll learn them when he needs to. The boy is silent for longer this time, he stares down at the carpet before he finally looks up. His brow is furrowed.
“X...F...Seven?” He drags each syllable out, looking unsure and scared. When Naomi nods, the smile he had before comes back. “They're like vampires! They drink human blood 'cause the...” He bites his lip. “Cause they're leeches!” Naomi inhales sharply, her eyes narrowing.
“No, they're not leeches. We don't call them that, it's mean.” The boy looks apologetic, a scarlet blush rising over his cheeks.
“'Cause the stuff in it makes them not angry?” He tries. Naomi nods this time, her expression softer and the boy grins, bouncing out of his chair. “Can I go, Miss?” He asks, and Naomi smiles, and nods yes, and stands up out of her seat too, to follow him to the door.
His mama is waiting outside, anxious and pacing, because her son needs to know these vital things but it's a sign that he's growing up, he's going to be too old to coddle soon. When she sees the smile on Naomi's face, she relaxes, hugging her son tightly.
“Goodbye, Jack,” Naomi calls. She won't see him again, it's time for him to move up to the next year. The door shuts, and she is alone, and her head is hurting. In eighteen years, he'll be back. That's so probable, it's almost definite. Every future leads to that. He'll remember the only person who ever defended the infected, and he'll need her help.
Still, she thinks to herself. He's going to have some interesting experiences before then. And interesting is a good thing, interesting is nice.
Challenge: Chocolate Chili #18 - Condemnation, Blueberry Yogurt #2 - Homecoming, Strawberry #28 - Waves.
Rating: PG.
Story: Subhuman
Word count: 582
Summary: I was 'rebellious' and I 'was out of the box' and I 'made waves'.
Timeline: Before the start of the main story, Sacha is 19.
Notes: Just something a little more light hearted! I'm still working through the backlog of pieces I've written and not posted =_= Tanner is just a friend, in case you were wondering :) You'll be seeing him again, at least twice.
Sacha stared down at the letter in his hand, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.
“What's that?” Tanner asked, dropping onto the ratty sofa next to him and leaning over to look at the paper.
“School reunion. Sixth form,” Sacha explained, holding out the piece of paper. Tanner frowned, taking the letter and staring down at it.
“But...you're nineteen. You've been out of that school for what, a year?” Sacha nodded. “Why the hell do you need a school reunion already?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Sacha sighed, taking the paper back from Tanner and screwing it up into a ball and tossing it in the vague direction of the bin. Tanner watched this with an amused expression on his face and waited for Sacha to flop backwards again, half onto Tanner before he started interrogating him.
“I take it you're not going then?” Sacha gave him the look at that question, the look Sacha gave to anyone he thought was stupid. “Why not?” Sacha snorted at that question.
“Oh, you know,” He sighed, flapping his hand randomly. “Something to do with the fact they hated me because I was 'rebellious' and I 'was out of the box' and I 'made waves'. My teachers words, not mine, by the way. I was just too fucking weird.”
“Still are, Sacha,” Tanner muttered, earning a glare and a kick from the other man. “Alright, alright, you're completely normal.” Sacha beamed at that, leaning forward to press a dry kiss to Tanner's cheek. “What time is it?” There was a pause as Sacha looked around the room for a clock that didn't exist, that he knew didn't exist because he hadn't bought one, before he shrugged.
“Eightish?” He arched his neck to look round and peer out of the window. “Street lights are still on. Sevenish.” Tanner nodded at that, then groaned and ran a hand over his face.
“I better be going to work,” He sighed, pushing Sacha's so he could get up. “Are you going to work today?” He asked, through a stretch and a yawn. Sacha seemed to contemplate the idea for a few seconds, actually considering going to work to stand around making coffee until he stank for ungrateful, impolite gits for a few moments, before he screwed up his nose and shook his head.
“Nah.”
“Aren't you nearly on probation with your boss though?” Sacha nodded, rolling his neck to stare up at the ceiling. He flicked his middle finger against his thumb as he did so, a mindless habit, nothing important, just a sign that Tanner had come to realize meant that Sacha was craving a cigarette and bored. “Guess it doesn't bother you, huh? Sacha nodded again, turning his head to grin at Tanner.
“With a face like this, I can get any job I want, babe,” He purred. Tanner rolled his eyes and snorted.
“As a prostitute, yeah,” He muttered. Sacha, for once, didn't seem to take offense, and just stuck is tongue out. “Alright then, see you later, Sach,” He said, waving at Sacha pointlessly, considering he was currently closing his eyes and snuggling into the sofa. Back to sleep then, apparently. Tanner rolled his eyes again, making sure to close the door quietly behind him and to lock it tightly. He wouldn't put it past Sacha to sleep through someone breaking in.
Author: etacanis
Challenge: Molasses #15 - The Usual Suspects
Rating: PG.
Story: Subhuman
Word count: 714
Summary: That's so probable, it's almost definite. Every future leads to that.
Notes: I needed a way to explain (at least some of) the infections. And I needed a way for Naomi and Jack to meet, and this fits both :) So if you were wondering what I was rambling on about with infections and such, this should help a tad :D
Naomi smiles at the child, taking his small hand in hers. He's terrified, she knows. He's scared of what will happen if he gets his answers wrong (nothing). He's worried about getting them right, she suspects. The knowledge stays with you for years, and it only hits you when you're older, older than this seven year old boy. He'll get them right, she knows. He'll say some things that society have taught him, and not her, but he'll get them right.
“The ankou,” She starts, brushing her thumb over small knuckles. “Tell me about the ankou.”
“The ankou,” The boy repeats. His pronunciation is wrong, but that's nothing. “The ankou see death...It's a genetic...” He pauses, biting his lip.
“Condition. It's a genetic condition,” Naomi urges, and the boy nods.
“It's a genetic condition what's really rare.” It's not her job to correct his grammar. She bites her tongue. “Only sixteen people have it!” He beams at that, he's proud, and Naomi smiles too.
“What level are they?” She asks and the boy bites his lip again.
“Harmless?” The boy hazards a guess, and Naomi nods. The boy practically shines with pride now, and Naomi knows he'll tell his mama how well he did.
“The albasti?” Naomi asks, and the boy frowns. This one is hard, she knows. This one is bridging the gap between harmless and so very, very dangerous. This one is too dark for a seven year old child, but he has to know.
“The albasti...are women.” A pause. “Women who stick together like friends, and...and they don't like boys.” Men, technically. But Naomi knows that when you're young, there's no difference. “Boys who did something really bad.” Naomi nods, her smile still in place.
“And the Fey? What about us?” Her smile is comforting, her hair shining golden in the light streaming through the window.
“You can see the future!” The boy's hand slips out of Naomi's and he claps excitedly, childishly. He thinks that's the coolest thing in the world, unable to think of how very hard it is.
“How many futures?” Naomi asks.
“Loads of 'em! Loads of futures what might happen! And the...” Another pause; Naomi wants to help him. “And the prob-probable one!” Naomi grins at that, and nods.
“And now, the last one?” It's not the last, not by a long way, but some things are far too dark, far too scary, far too adult for now. He'll learn them when he needs to. The boy is silent for longer this time, he stares down at the carpet before he finally looks up. His brow is furrowed.
“X...F...Seven?” He drags each syllable out, looking unsure and scared. When Naomi nods, the smile he had before comes back. “They're like vampires! They drink human blood 'cause the...” He bites his lip. “Cause they're leeches!” Naomi inhales sharply, her eyes narrowing.
“No, they're not leeches. We don't call them that, it's mean.” The boy looks apologetic, a scarlet blush rising over his cheeks.
“'Cause the stuff in it makes them not angry?” He tries. Naomi nods this time, her expression softer and the boy grins, bouncing out of his chair. “Can I go, Miss?” He asks, and Naomi smiles, and nods yes, and stands up out of her seat too, to follow him to the door.
His mama is waiting outside, anxious and pacing, because her son needs to know these vital things but it's a sign that he's growing up, he's going to be too old to coddle soon. When she sees the smile on Naomi's face, she relaxes, hugging her son tightly.
“Goodbye, Jack,” Naomi calls. She won't see him again, it's time for him to move up to the next year. The door shuts, and she is alone, and her head is hurting. In eighteen years, he'll be back. That's so probable, it's almost definite. Every future leads to that. He'll remember the only person who ever defended the infected, and he'll need her help.
Still, she thinks to herself. He's going to have some interesting experiences before then. And interesting is a good thing, interesting is nice.