FIC: Biting Conversation & Bugger It All (SP)
I seem to be perfectly fine with writing a variety of scenes that go in order so this takes place right after Scene 1.
Title: Biting Conversation (Scene 2)
Fandom: Original - Streetlight People 'verse
Characters: Cyril Ann, Pliya, the Lord High Chancellor
Prompts: Today I wrote about - AWE and Be yourself; everyone else is already taken. ― Oscar Wilde for the
5_prompts Camp NaNo challenge
Word Count: 1444
As she’d expected, the room went quiet in stages and stayed silent until she’d made a complete circuit and went to stand by the window, ready to hold court. This was the easy part. She’d watched her father do the same thing whenever he deigned to leave the security of the grand manor for the bit of social life he allowed himself. He always circled the room first before finding a place to have his friends and acquaintances gather to him.
It was hard to believe that she once thought her father’s ways ineffectual and obsolete. So many of them, with the right spin, were perfect for the game she was constantly playing. What she once saw as an old man’s doddering had been turned into the very thing that set her apart from the rest of the girls.
Set apart from them all, except for one.
If Cyril Ann was honest with herself, she was completely jealous of the grace and beauty of the one person who could walk through a door and, without even trying, be mobbed by a group of people wanting nothing more than to bask in her presence. She’d even found herself gravitating toward Pliya when she’d first come to Grantson, as eager as anyone else to be noticed by the pretty girl with the wide smile. What took Cyril Ann time and effort to accomplish, Pliya did effortlessly.
It had been a struggle but she had finally pulled herself away from the girl’s court and started to establish her own. The last few months, she’d laughed and sparkled as best she could, pulling people into her orbit who wanted to be near her, for no other reason than to see what she would come up with next.
Tonight, they were not disappointed. As soon as she stood still, people were moving toward her, eager to confirm that their first glance hadn’t been wrong. She let them come as close as they dared, her glance never settling for too long on anyone in case they were scared off too easily. For this to work, she needed everyone to notice her.
“Is that really... no, it couldn’t be.”
“Look how it flares, like it’s full of light. The stories all say that it looks like that. Do you think it could be?”
“It hasn’t been seen in years.”
She listened to the waves of conversation, ignoring most eveything that was said. Half the room thought she was wearing a copy and the other half had no real idea what was going on, just that something was upsetting some of the people in the room. There were a few who were in shock but, at this point, they were not the right few. Where was the Lord High Chancellor? On this night, of all nights, he should have been front and center at the main event on his beloved campus.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted him. When she turned her full attention toward that side of the room, she felt the full force of her rage seething and gnashing at the cage she had it in. If this had been any other night, she would have allowed herself to vent it because the very man who should have been concentrating on her and the gem she wore about her neck was basking in the glow of Pliya.
Every nerve ending flared to life as she struggled not to conjure up up a ball of fire and chuck it to that side of the room. Using magic in such a blatant exhibition would be a death sentence, not to mention a vulgur way of killing someone when there were much more subtle means at her disposal.
A few deep breaths later, Cyril Ann was more in charge of herself. She pushed through the crowd, no longer caring if they gawked at her or not. They’d done their job but her main conquest hadn’t done his. If he wouldn’t come to her, in this one instance she would go to him. It rankled and bit at her pride to have to stoop to blatantly throwing herself at the object of her attention when he should have been the one falling at her feet.
“My dear, you’re looking lovely tonight.”
If her smile in response to Pliya’s attention wasn’t as brilliant as it might have been under different circumstances when she had a better control of her emotions, but it was still cuttingly bright. “As do you. That outfit’s on the very cutting edge of fashion, even for you.”
There was a slight narrowing of Pliya’s eyes but nothing anyone would notice unless they were looking for it in response to their cut. “I do try.”
“A gift from your father?” Cyril Ann asked, deliberately bringing up a subject that everyone knew that Pliya didn’t like to discuss. It wasn’t hard to guess why the daughter didn’t like to discuss her father, seeing as he was the richest man in the area, thanks to his dealings with the Lavalings. Cyril Ann’s father, Commander Bray, had spent a lifetime fighting the advances of the Lavalings and their thirst for soil. While Cyril Ann had no fondness for the military or any pride in the ruling class of either New City or Old City, she did enjoy watching Pliya jerk whenever that particular chain was tugged on.
“As a matter of fact,” the girl said through clenched teeth, “it is. I’ll tell him you admired it.”
Under her breath, Cyril Ann muttered, “You do that,” before turning her attention to the Lord High Chancelor. “So lovely to see you on tonight of all nights, Lord Grantson.”
There were very few that dared to call the Lord High Chancellor anything but Your Grace but Cyril Ann needed him to notice her. At this point, even an angry glance was better than none at all. Anything to get have him notice the necklace so the game could begin.
“Good evening to... by rakes. That’s... that’s quite a gem you have around your neck tonight, Lady Bray.”
She fingered the gem before letting it fall back in it’s bed of lace. “Do you like it? I just acquired it today.”
“A gift from your father?” Pliya asked, not quite as willing to let that jab go past without one of her own. They should have been great friends, seeing how both of them were embarrassed by their fathers.
“No. This little beauty came to me from an admirer.”
There was talk all through the campus about Lady Bray’s admirer for even Xie’s best efforts hadn’t kept his late night entrances through her window from being noticed. Instead of trying to hide it, she fostered the rumor whenever she could because she never knew when it would come in handy... like now. Watching Pliya’s eyes widen in surprise and Grantson’s eyes narrow in deliberation was well worth every whisper and knowing glance for the last year.
“He says it’s special. Wouldn’t say why.” She smoothed her finger up and down the chain, letting just the tiniest amount of magic to seep into the metal so that the whole piece shimmered even without help from the flickering flames lining the wall. “I just like the color.”
“It does match your eyes.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet. I suppose they are the same color as this beautiful gem, aren’t they?” She met Pliya’s gaze with a wide smile of her own. “Do you suppose they mined this up in the Lava Mountains? Maybe your father had something to do with getting it here to this city. Do you think-” but the girl had turned away, so intent on getting far away from the continued slights about her father that she didn’t bother to excuse herself. That was fine with Cyril Ann.
She took a step closer to the Lord High Chancellor. “What do you think, sir?”
“About what?” he stammered as her hand landed on his arm.
“About this necklace. Do you think this gem was mined in the Lava Mountains? Possibly brought down the mountain and over the lava rock fields at great personal expense by a band of mercenaries intent on getting enough credits to send their leader’s daughter to a Healer to cure the burn she got from falling in the fire?” When his face drained of all color, she pulled back. “Or something like that, I’m sure.”
“I’m sure.” But he was also moving away from her, a band of sweat glistening on his forehead.
It had taken some doing but the course of the game was now firmly in place.
Title: Bugger It All (Scene 3)
Fandom: Original - Streetlight People 'verse
Characters: Cyril Ann, the boys
Prompts: Today I wrote about - a rock for the
5_prompts Camp NaNo challenge
Word Count: 801
Cyril Ann could have stayed at the gathering for several more minutes, secure in the knowledge that everything was set on the right path and her plans would be carried out as if she was there to do the deed herself. Right now, Lord Grantson would be scurrying along the path back to the large mansion in the middle of the Academy grounds that he called home. In his haste, he would fail to look around him and would completely miss that he was being followed by a band of nattily dressed boys, none of whom really looked as if they belonged when close attention was paid to them.
He would be so worried about his precious treasure that he wouldn’t be in time to flash his protection rune when the first attack was made. Since he had to be actively holding on to the rune, his right hand and then his left would be taken out of the equation. Next, he would be forced to the ground (if he hadn’t already fallen there in terror and pain) where he would be kicked and punched until, at long last, his savior arrived.
All in all, she figured she had fifteen minutes before she needed to begin down the path that would lead her toward her lodgings. It was a path that would take her right into the thick of the fighting. Later, if anyone tried to call any of her actions into question, her choice to leave the party and go back home wouldn’t be too suspect. Not with half the room still craning their neck to see her costume (the hem was creating quite a stir, to be sure) and the other frowning at her for the way she’d treated their precious mob princess.
Seeing as Cyril Ann had a tendency to make contacts instead of friends, even in her younger days of running rough with Xie and his band, there was no one she could slip away into a corner with. No one would care to listen to her prattling on about the latest gossip or the things she was learning in her classes. Oh, there were groups she could walk up to and be included in but she wanted none of that tonight. It would be commented on that she was in high spirits and she would be asked to explain herself, if for no other reason that it didn’t seem to be polite to be happy.
No, better if she just slipped out now. Her reason for being here was gone and she found herself suddenly eager to get on with the rest of the activities she had planned for the evening.
As she started down the path, she strained for any noise of a scuffle. It was still a little early for the festivities to have started but she wanted to make sure she heard it before she found it. Her steps slowed as she got closer to the place she should have come upon the group. It was as silent as tombs. No rustle of retreating footsteps or groans of despair. There was not even the scuffle of stones along the path as a single person tried to run and a group charged after.
Three hoots of an owl later and she was looking at four of the five boys she had picked out. “What went wrong?”
“Nothing, Miss. We’re waiting here, like you said. Waiting for a well-dressed man to pass. The same well-dressed man you pointed out two days ago. No man has come by. For that matter, no one at all has come by until you, Miss.”
She hated that they called her Miss. Hated more that none of them would meet her eyes. When she’d come to Grantson, so much had changed and she was never more aware of it than at this moment. If Xie had changed the same way his gang of boys had changed, she would have turned her back on the whole thing and gone right back to the way she had once been, a hoyden controlled by neither society or family.
Through teeth clenched together, she replied, “He left nearly ten minutes ago. How could he not have come this way?”
“Maybe, Miss, he decided to go another direction.”
“He couldn’t have,” she protested but the thought voiced out loud made her wonder if it wasn’t truth. She’d assumed that he would come back here to make sure that his necklace was still safe.
But what if he really needed to go somewhere else first? A cold shiver coursed through every single muscles along her spine. “Go,” she demanded of the boys. “Go and find Xie. Tell him to meet me,” but where? Where would the Lord High Chancellor go if not back to the room where his secrets were kept safe?
He would go to the person who’d made sure his possessions and his person were safe. As soon as she thought it, Cyril Ann knew that was exactly what the man would have done. She hadn’t even considered that because she had never had to depend on another person for safely and well-being. It fit this fickle man, though.
Cyril Ann straightened her shoulders and stiffened her spine, despite the muscles that still protested as they continued to shiver with the cold of fear. “Tell him to meet me at the Library.”
This entry was cross posted at dreamwidth - where the cool kids hang out.
Title: Biting Conversation (Scene 2)
Fandom: Original - Streetlight People 'verse
Characters: Cyril Ann, Pliya, the Lord High Chancellor
Prompts: Today I wrote about - AWE and Be yourself; everyone else is already taken. ― Oscar Wilde for the
5_prompts Camp NaNo challenge
Word Count: 1444
As she’d expected, the room went quiet in stages and stayed silent until she’d made a complete circuit and went to stand by the window, ready to hold court. This was the easy part. She’d watched her father do the same thing whenever he deigned to leave the security of the grand manor for the bit of social life he allowed himself. He always circled the room first before finding a place to have his friends and acquaintances gather to him.
It was hard to believe that she once thought her father’s ways ineffectual and obsolete. So many of them, with the right spin, were perfect for the game she was constantly playing. What she once saw as an old man’s doddering had been turned into the very thing that set her apart from the rest of the girls.
Set apart from them all, except for one.
If Cyril Ann was honest with herself, she was completely jealous of the grace and beauty of the one person who could walk through a door and, without even trying, be mobbed by a group of people wanting nothing more than to bask in her presence. She’d even found herself gravitating toward Pliya when she’d first come to Grantson, as eager as anyone else to be noticed by the pretty girl with the wide smile. What took Cyril Ann time and effort to accomplish, Pliya did effortlessly.
It had been a struggle but she had finally pulled herself away from the girl’s court and started to establish her own. The last few months, she’d laughed and sparkled as best she could, pulling people into her orbit who wanted to be near her, for no other reason than to see what she would come up with next.
Tonight, they were not disappointed. As soon as she stood still, people were moving toward her, eager to confirm that their first glance hadn’t been wrong. She let them come as close as they dared, her glance never settling for too long on anyone in case they were scared off too easily. For this to work, she needed everyone to notice her.
“Is that really... no, it couldn’t be.”
“Look how it flares, like it’s full of light. The stories all say that it looks like that. Do you think it could be?”
“It hasn’t been seen in years.”
She listened to the waves of conversation, ignoring most eveything that was said. Half the room thought she was wearing a copy and the other half had no real idea what was going on, just that something was upsetting some of the people in the room. There were a few who were in shock but, at this point, they were not the right few. Where was the Lord High Chancellor? On this night, of all nights, he should have been front and center at the main event on his beloved campus.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted him. When she turned her full attention toward that side of the room, she felt the full force of her rage seething and gnashing at the cage she had it in. If this had been any other night, she would have allowed herself to vent it because the very man who should have been concentrating on her and the gem she wore about her neck was basking in the glow of Pliya.
Every nerve ending flared to life as she struggled not to conjure up up a ball of fire and chuck it to that side of the room. Using magic in such a blatant exhibition would be a death sentence, not to mention a vulgur way of killing someone when there were much more subtle means at her disposal.
A few deep breaths later, Cyril Ann was more in charge of herself. She pushed through the crowd, no longer caring if they gawked at her or not. They’d done their job but her main conquest hadn’t done his. If he wouldn’t come to her, in this one instance she would go to him. It rankled and bit at her pride to have to stoop to blatantly throwing herself at the object of her attention when he should have been the one falling at her feet.
“My dear, you’re looking lovely tonight.”
If her smile in response to Pliya’s attention wasn’t as brilliant as it might have been under different circumstances when she had a better control of her emotions, but it was still cuttingly bright. “As do you. That outfit’s on the very cutting edge of fashion, even for you.”
There was a slight narrowing of Pliya’s eyes but nothing anyone would notice unless they were looking for it in response to their cut. “I do try.”
“A gift from your father?” Cyril Ann asked, deliberately bringing up a subject that everyone knew that Pliya didn’t like to discuss. It wasn’t hard to guess why the daughter didn’t like to discuss her father, seeing as he was the richest man in the area, thanks to his dealings with the Lavalings. Cyril Ann’s father, Commander Bray, had spent a lifetime fighting the advances of the Lavalings and their thirst for soil. While Cyril Ann had no fondness for the military or any pride in the ruling class of either New City or Old City, she did enjoy watching Pliya jerk whenever that particular chain was tugged on.
“As a matter of fact,” the girl said through clenched teeth, “it is. I’ll tell him you admired it.”
Under her breath, Cyril Ann muttered, “You do that,” before turning her attention to the Lord High Chancelor. “So lovely to see you on tonight of all nights, Lord Grantson.”
There were very few that dared to call the Lord High Chancellor anything but Your Grace but Cyril Ann needed him to notice her. At this point, even an angry glance was better than none at all. Anything to get have him notice the necklace so the game could begin.
“Good evening to... by rakes. That’s... that’s quite a gem you have around your neck tonight, Lady Bray.”
She fingered the gem before letting it fall back in it’s bed of lace. “Do you like it? I just acquired it today.”
“A gift from your father?” Pliya asked, not quite as willing to let that jab go past without one of her own. They should have been great friends, seeing how both of them were embarrassed by their fathers.
“No. This little beauty came to me from an admirer.”
There was talk all through the campus about Lady Bray’s admirer for even Xie’s best efforts hadn’t kept his late night entrances through her window from being noticed. Instead of trying to hide it, she fostered the rumor whenever she could because she never knew when it would come in handy... like now. Watching Pliya’s eyes widen in surprise and Grantson’s eyes narrow in deliberation was well worth every whisper and knowing glance for the last year.
“He says it’s special. Wouldn’t say why.” She smoothed her finger up and down the chain, letting just the tiniest amount of magic to seep into the metal so that the whole piece shimmered even without help from the flickering flames lining the wall. “I just like the color.”
“It does match your eyes.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet. I suppose they are the same color as this beautiful gem, aren’t they?” She met Pliya’s gaze with a wide smile of her own. “Do you suppose they mined this up in the Lava Mountains? Maybe your father had something to do with getting it here to this city. Do you think-” but the girl had turned away, so intent on getting far away from the continued slights about her father that she didn’t bother to excuse herself. That was fine with Cyril Ann.
She took a step closer to the Lord High Chancellor. “What do you think, sir?”
“About what?” he stammered as her hand landed on his arm.
“About this necklace. Do you think this gem was mined in the Lava Mountains? Possibly brought down the mountain and over the lava rock fields at great personal expense by a band of mercenaries intent on getting enough credits to send their leader’s daughter to a Healer to cure the burn she got from falling in the fire?” When his face drained of all color, she pulled back. “Or something like that, I’m sure.”
“I’m sure.” But he was also moving away from her, a band of sweat glistening on his forehead.
It had taken some doing but the course of the game was now firmly in place.
Title: Bugger It All (Scene 3)
Fandom: Original - Streetlight People 'verse
Characters: Cyril Ann, the boys
Prompts: Today I wrote about - a rock for the
5_prompts Camp NaNo challenge
Word Count: 801
Cyril Ann could have stayed at the gathering for several more minutes, secure in the knowledge that everything was set on the right path and her plans would be carried out as if she was there to do the deed herself. Right now, Lord Grantson would be scurrying along the path back to the large mansion in the middle of the Academy grounds that he called home. In his haste, he would fail to look around him and would completely miss that he was being followed by a band of nattily dressed boys, none of whom really looked as if they belonged when close attention was paid to them.
He would be so worried about his precious treasure that he wouldn’t be in time to flash his protection rune when the first attack was made. Since he had to be actively holding on to the rune, his right hand and then his left would be taken out of the equation. Next, he would be forced to the ground (if he hadn’t already fallen there in terror and pain) where he would be kicked and punched until, at long last, his savior arrived.
All in all, she figured she had fifteen minutes before she needed to begin down the path that would lead her toward her lodgings. It was a path that would take her right into the thick of the fighting. Later, if anyone tried to call any of her actions into question, her choice to leave the party and go back home wouldn’t be too suspect. Not with half the room still craning their neck to see her costume (the hem was creating quite a stir, to be sure) and the other frowning at her for the way she’d treated their precious mob princess.
Seeing as Cyril Ann had a tendency to make contacts instead of friends, even in her younger days of running rough with Xie and his band, there was no one she could slip away into a corner with. No one would care to listen to her prattling on about the latest gossip or the things she was learning in her classes. Oh, there were groups she could walk up to and be included in but she wanted none of that tonight. It would be commented on that she was in high spirits and she would be asked to explain herself, if for no other reason that it didn’t seem to be polite to be happy.
No, better if she just slipped out now. Her reason for being here was gone and she found herself suddenly eager to get on with the rest of the activities she had planned for the evening.
As she started down the path, she strained for any noise of a scuffle. It was still a little early for the festivities to have started but she wanted to make sure she heard it before she found it. Her steps slowed as she got closer to the place she should have come upon the group. It was as silent as tombs. No rustle of retreating footsteps or groans of despair. There was not even the scuffle of stones along the path as a single person tried to run and a group charged after.
Three hoots of an owl later and she was looking at four of the five boys she had picked out. “What went wrong?”
“Nothing, Miss. We’re waiting here, like you said. Waiting for a well-dressed man to pass. The same well-dressed man you pointed out two days ago. No man has come by. For that matter, no one at all has come by until you, Miss.”
She hated that they called her Miss. Hated more that none of them would meet her eyes. When she’d come to Grantson, so much had changed and she was never more aware of it than at this moment. If Xie had changed the same way his gang of boys had changed, she would have turned her back on the whole thing and gone right back to the way she had once been, a hoyden controlled by neither society or family.
Through teeth clenched together, she replied, “He left nearly ten minutes ago. How could he not have come this way?”
“Maybe, Miss, he decided to go another direction.”
“He couldn’t have,” she protested but the thought voiced out loud made her wonder if it wasn’t truth. She’d assumed that he would come back here to make sure that his necklace was still safe.
But what if he really needed to go somewhere else first? A cold shiver coursed through every single muscles along her spine. “Go,” she demanded of the boys. “Go and find Xie. Tell him to meet me,” but where? Where would the Lord High Chancellor go if not back to the room where his secrets were kept safe?
He would go to the person who’d made sure his possessions and his person were safe. As soon as she thought it, Cyril Ann knew that was exactly what the man would have done. She hadn’t even considered that because she had never had to depend on another person for safely and well-being. It fit this fickle man, though.
Cyril Ann straightened her shoulders and stiffened her spine, despite the muscles that still protested as they continued to shiver with the cold of fear. “Tell him to meet me at the Library.”
This entry was cross posted at dreamwidth - where the cool kids hang out.