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Mango #11. Seeing is Believing with Hot Fudge
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : Book 2 young necromancers (1250's)
Word Count : ~750
So, I'm making myself write. But I'm settling for baby steps. Cleaning out some half-finished stuff I've found to try to get the momentum to work my way up to joining the brownies. So here's some perhaps rather redundant Reida and Kairn. May or may not be canon (definitely contradicts earlier pieces) as I am debating when the body building should actually start. But hey, I made words and so I am happy!
“W-what is it?” Peering into the casket, Kairn couldn’t help but speak in a whisper.
“It’s a body,” Reida snapped, not bothering to hush her voice in the least. “What does it look like?”
It was a body, insofar as it had what looked to be limbs attached to something like a torso and a misshapen orb jutting from one end where one might expect to find a head. But it had no hands, no feet. Kairn wasn’t even sure if the limbs had joints or bones or if they’d just hang flaccid if one were to lift the thing from its bed. And the face…it was more of an approximation of a face, he supposed, with the slightest of ridges and indentations where a human face might warrant them, but there were no eyes nor lips, no orifice to speak of amidst the smooth pink sheen of it. Kairn had seen more bodies in more states than he cared to think of, but no degree of decomposition or disfigurement left one looking like that.
“Not a real body, of course,” she said as he continued to stare. As if that explained everything.
It occurred to him that if he were to press it, the skin might just bounce back like rubber, but he didn’t dare try it. The thought alone gave him shivers. Of course, the same thought must have come to Reida, because she did, and it did, and it was all Kairn could do to not run from the room.
“He’s really going to put her in that?” he asked, taking a slow step back.
“Eventually.”
“I think if were me, I’d rather stay the pile of bones that eats rats. At least the body she has now can eat.”
“Well, it’s not as if it’s done.”
“I would hope not. There’s no eyes, no mouth. D-does it even have any organs at all?” He wondered whether such a body would even need any innards beyond a basic frame and musculature, and despite his better judgment, found himself edging back towards the casket out of curiosity.
“Not yet.”
Kairn hazarded another look, hoping to ascertain if the cloudy pink material was translucent enough to spy the body’s inner workings, wondering all the while what possessed him to do such a thing, only to find Reida continuing to prod the surface, sending ripples across its midsection. He recoiled again.
“It’s pretty much a giant, human-shaped gelatin mold at this point,” she said cheerfully, and Kairn shuddered.
“So just what are you so excited about this thing for?” Not that Reida needed a reason to be excited about anything magical beyond the fact that it was magical. And Berwyk himself had invited her to work on this. That was no small accomplishment. But there was something in the way she was leering at the thing that set Kairn’s already fraught nerves on edge.
“Because,” she said, looking up at him with that toothy grin of hers, “if it works, I can make one for myself later.”
“What in gods’ names would you want that for?” Another involuntary step backwards found him up against the doorframe.
“You’re kidding. A body that never ages or dies? What wouldn’t I want with that?”
“Just…just remember where it got Berwyk.”
“I’m not Berwyk.” Her eyes fell on the hand with which he was fumbling behind him for the doorknob. She sighed and turned to retrieve the casket’s lid from where she had propped it against one of the enormous bookcases that lined the room. “Besides, who would I keep in my attic?” she continued, as she slid it into place. “You? I’ve got better things to spend eternity on than preserving your ass.”
“I’ve got no intention of rotting in anyone’s attic. Or turning into that.” He nodded in the direction of the body, now safely out of sight. “There’s nothing wrong with growing old like a normal person.”
“You say that now, when you’re young, but…”
Kairn just glared at her before turning to the door.
Reida shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, snapping the latches on the box shut. “Sethan wants one too, you know.”
“Like hell, he does.”
“He figures, under the right circumstances,” she lingered over those words, “he just might put a god in it.”
Kairn froze, halfway out the door. After a moment of silence in which it took all his effort not to look back, he said, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Reida laughed. “That’s probably for the best.”
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : Book 2 young necromancers (1250's)
Word Count : ~750
So, I'm making myself write. But I'm settling for baby steps. Cleaning out some half-finished stuff I've found to try to get the momentum to work my way up to joining the brownies. So here's some perhaps rather redundant Reida and Kairn. May or may not be canon (definitely contradicts earlier pieces) as I am debating when the body building should actually start. But hey, I made words and so I am happy!
“W-what is it?” Peering into the casket, Kairn couldn’t help but speak in a whisper.
“It’s a body,” Reida snapped, not bothering to hush her voice in the least. “What does it look like?”
It was a body, insofar as it had what looked to be limbs attached to something like a torso and a misshapen orb jutting from one end where one might expect to find a head. But it had no hands, no feet. Kairn wasn’t even sure if the limbs had joints or bones or if they’d just hang flaccid if one were to lift the thing from its bed. And the face…it was more of an approximation of a face, he supposed, with the slightest of ridges and indentations where a human face might warrant them, but there were no eyes nor lips, no orifice to speak of amidst the smooth pink sheen of it. Kairn had seen more bodies in more states than he cared to think of, but no degree of decomposition or disfigurement left one looking like that.
“Not a real body, of course,” she said as he continued to stare. As if that explained everything.
It occurred to him that if he were to press it, the skin might just bounce back like rubber, but he didn’t dare try it. The thought alone gave him shivers. Of course, the same thought must have come to Reida, because she did, and it did, and it was all Kairn could do to not run from the room.
“He’s really going to put her in that?” he asked, taking a slow step back.
“Eventually.”
“I think if were me, I’d rather stay the pile of bones that eats rats. At least the body she has now can eat.”
“Well, it’s not as if it’s done.”
“I would hope not. There’s no eyes, no mouth. D-does it even have any organs at all?” He wondered whether such a body would even need any innards beyond a basic frame and musculature, and despite his better judgment, found himself edging back towards the casket out of curiosity.
“Not yet.”
Kairn hazarded another look, hoping to ascertain if the cloudy pink material was translucent enough to spy the body’s inner workings, wondering all the while what possessed him to do such a thing, only to find Reida continuing to prod the surface, sending ripples across its midsection. He recoiled again.
“It’s pretty much a giant, human-shaped gelatin mold at this point,” she said cheerfully, and Kairn shuddered.
“So just what are you so excited about this thing for?” Not that Reida needed a reason to be excited about anything magical beyond the fact that it was magical. And Berwyk himself had invited her to work on this. That was no small accomplishment. But there was something in the way she was leering at the thing that set Kairn’s already fraught nerves on edge.
“Because,” she said, looking up at him with that toothy grin of hers, “if it works, I can make one for myself later.”
“What in gods’ names would you want that for?” Another involuntary step backwards found him up against the doorframe.
“You’re kidding. A body that never ages or dies? What wouldn’t I want with that?”
“Just…just remember where it got Berwyk.”
“I’m not Berwyk.” Her eyes fell on the hand with which he was fumbling behind him for the doorknob. She sighed and turned to retrieve the casket’s lid from where she had propped it against one of the enormous bookcases that lined the room. “Besides, who would I keep in my attic?” she continued, as she slid it into place. “You? I’ve got better things to spend eternity on than preserving your ass.”
“I’ve got no intention of rotting in anyone’s attic. Or turning into that.” He nodded in the direction of the body, now safely out of sight. “There’s nothing wrong with growing old like a normal person.”
“You say that now, when you’re young, but…”
Kairn just glared at her before turning to the door.
Reida shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, snapping the latches on the box shut. “Sethan wants one too, you know.”
“Like hell, he does.”
“He figures, under the right circumstances,” she lingered over those words, “he just might put a god in it.”
Kairn froze, halfway out the door. After a moment of silence in which it took all his effort not to look back, he said, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Reida laughed. “That’s probably for the best.”