(no subject)
Peaches & Cream Binge
Pocky Chain with Cookie Crumbs
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1260-70's
Word Count : 1200
Cookie Crumbs : Awe, On My Knees, Take It or Leave It & Ceremony
For my race with Marina. (I am shocked that I won - to be fair there is a lot of paraphrasing/reusing old bits) It's Ski and Tristan's turn for a binge!
Morning Glory
Sword in hand, the blue knight leapt from the saddle and swung at the demon. Her blade caught the beast across the shoulder, sliding through flesh and bone as easily as if they were butter.
Flat on the ground, where the demon’s blow had put him, Tristan looked on in wonder as she single-handedly tore the thing to pieces. She brought her weapon crashing down across the demon’s neck, cleaving its head from its body and it fell, lifeless, to the ground.
“They’re something else,” he said to Wyatt, when they were headed back to the fort. “She’s something else.”
She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not
Tristan had charged into battle against hordes of the walking dead and not felt half as frightened, nor as excited, as he did now, clutching Ski’s hand and fumbling for words.
“I suppose there’s a proper way to do this and all.” he said, dropping to his knees.
“Tristan-” She started to withdraw, but he held on.
“I’ve never been much good with words, but I want to marry you.”
There was an excruciating, exhilarating moment as she stared at him, looking as if she was about to cry, and then his whole world collapsed with a single word.
“No.”
Deadly Nightshade
Ski took a gulp from the bottle. Bitter spirits laced with sweet strawberry slid past her lips.
“I have been waiting for love all my life,” she confided in Rune. “And when I find it, I foul it up.”
“You might want to slow down with that.”
“I loved you too, you know.” She could barely speak around the tears that threatened to spill.
“Ski, you’re drunk.” He held her anyway.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
For the second time in her life, she had a night of which her only memory was that she had kissed Rune.
Daisy Chain
As she came to the doorway, all Tristan found he could do was stand and gape, grinning like a fool. The ladies had decorated an old gown of hers, pinning it up with bits of blue ribbon all along the front. A deep blue sash hung at her waist and a crown of tiny blue daisies rested atop her head.
She looked like a maiden from some fairy tale. When she looked at him, she smiled as wide as he did, and when she turned to her sister in the hall behind her, she said, “You’re right, this is perfect.”
Bleeding Heart
Ski braced herself for a blow that was not to come, cornered, unarmed. Tristan was at least a hundred feet away. And then he was pushing her out of the way, catching the force of the demon’s strike in her stead. And then he was out of reach again, crumpled on the ground, blood pouring from the gaping rents torn in his chest.
Thunder clapped inside her head. The fallen body that held her blade disintegrated, and she tore the weapon free. Screaming his name until it burned her throat, tears racing over her cheeks, she charged into the fray.
Baby's Breath
Propped on a pile of pillows, Ski smiled down at the newborn, who now lay draped across her breast, softly snoring.
“Funny,” she said, running a hand over the thin, golden wisps of hair that topped the tiny girl’s head, “all the trouble over someone so small.”
Lyssa sniffed. “If you think about where she came from, she’s hardly that small.”
Ski groaned. “I’ll thank you not to mention that again,” she said. “But truly,” she plucked one little hand from where it lay and gave Mara’s fingers a gentle squeeze, “can you think of anything so precious as this?”
Forget-me-not
“I know that you are there,” said Ski to the feathery touch that trailed down her arm, leaving gooseflesh in its wake.
“You find the most opportune times to visit me,” she said, sliding the last button free and shrugging out of her blouse. She dropped it and picked up her nightgown. The invisible hand slid back up her arm and across her shoulders.
“Do you hear me? See me? Or is this-” She reached her own hand up to grasp the one that continued to touch her. Her fingers closed on nothing but air. “Is this all we have?”
Dandelion
Ski stood at the window, the calico cat curled on the sill, peering out the glass with her as if it had as great an interest in what the girl outside was up to as she did.
In the yard, Mara twirled about in the grass with her arms flung wide and fingers spread to sweep through the air. Her head was thrown back, strawberry-golden locks streaming out behind her as she spun.
Throughout the yard, tiny puffs of white rose, as if by their own accord, from their stalks and gathered in thick clouds that danced along with her.
Poison Ivy
“Don’t take me for a fool,” said Kinari. “I know what the girl is and who her father is.”
Ski froze, grateful her back was to the woman. “You…you do?”
“The seed of the hand that defies death. I’m well aware who your sister’s lover was. I’m familiar with his powers. And Mara’s.”
“But she’s not-” Ski swallowed hard. She looks just like her father, she thought. But did she really? And the things she’d seen her do… “Oh gods.”
“Where are you off to now?”
“You were right. I must be the one to find her."
“Good girl."
Rose Petals
“How?” she said, and “Why?” and a hundred other poorly framed questions that it seemed Tristan was only willing to answer by laying his hands and his lips on any part of her he could reach.
It was like every dream, every ghostly visit she’d had over the years, the feel of him everywhere, but this time real. Tears rolled down her cheeks as, between questions, she brought her lips to his again and again whenever she found them near, and she curled her arms around him and held him fast.
“Don’t ever, ever leave me again,” she told him.
Hanafubuki
One moment she was charging towards them, slicing a path through the churning mass of demons that covered the field, and the next she sank beneath the sea of bones and flesh. Tristan lunged forward, but a pair of shaking hands clung to his arm and tried to pull him back.
Wide-eyed and trembling, Mara looked up at him and shook her head. They both spun round at the sudden clap of thunder. Every demon on the field collapsed in a wave that rippled out from the center, sending bone and dust flying into the air to rain back down.
Weeping Willow
Tristan bent and dug a hand into the debris. He rose, spreading his fingers. Dust fell between them and scattered in the air. He did a slow turn in place, casting a long, weary look over the field. Yellowing bones and heaps of gray flesh covered the ground; the remains of at least a hundred of the beasts, left to lie right where they’d stood.
On the edge of the destruction, he found Mara, standing with Sham’s arms around her and her eyes on him. Tristan let the last of the dust fall and shook his head, and Mara wept.
Pocky Chain with Cookie Crumbs
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1260-70's
Word Count : 1200
Cookie Crumbs : Awe, On My Knees, Take It or Leave It & Ceremony
For my race with Marina. (I am shocked that I won - to be fair there is a lot of paraphrasing/reusing old bits) It's Ski and Tristan's turn for a binge!
Morning Glory
Sword in hand, the blue knight leapt from the saddle and swung at the demon. Her blade caught the beast across the shoulder, sliding through flesh and bone as easily as if they were butter.
Flat on the ground, where the demon’s blow had put him, Tristan looked on in wonder as she single-handedly tore the thing to pieces. She brought her weapon crashing down across the demon’s neck, cleaving its head from its body and it fell, lifeless, to the ground.
“They’re something else,” he said to Wyatt, when they were headed back to the fort. “She’s something else.”
She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not
Tristan had charged into battle against hordes of the walking dead and not felt half as frightened, nor as excited, as he did now, clutching Ski’s hand and fumbling for words.
“I suppose there’s a proper way to do this and all.” he said, dropping to his knees.
“Tristan-” She started to withdraw, but he held on.
“I’ve never been much good with words, but I want to marry you.”
There was an excruciating, exhilarating moment as she stared at him, looking as if she was about to cry, and then his whole world collapsed with a single word.
“No.”
Deadly Nightshade
Ski took a gulp from the bottle. Bitter spirits laced with sweet strawberry slid past her lips.
“I have been waiting for love all my life,” she confided in Rune. “And when I find it, I foul it up.”
“You might want to slow down with that.”
“I loved you too, you know.” She could barely speak around the tears that threatened to spill.
“Ski, you’re drunk.” He held her anyway.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
For the second time in her life, she had a night of which her only memory was that she had kissed Rune.
Daisy Chain
As she came to the doorway, all Tristan found he could do was stand and gape, grinning like a fool. The ladies had decorated an old gown of hers, pinning it up with bits of blue ribbon all along the front. A deep blue sash hung at her waist and a crown of tiny blue daisies rested atop her head.
She looked like a maiden from some fairy tale. When she looked at him, she smiled as wide as he did, and when she turned to her sister in the hall behind her, she said, “You’re right, this is perfect.”
Bleeding Heart
Ski braced herself for a blow that was not to come, cornered, unarmed. Tristan was at least a hundred feet away. And then he was pushing her out of the way, catching the force of the demon’s strike in her stead. And then he was out of reach again, crumpled on the ground, blood pouring from the gaping rents torn in his chest.
Thunder clapped inside her head. The fallen body that held her blade disintegrated, and she tore the weapon free. Screaming his name until it burned her throat, tears racing over her cheeks, she charged into the fray.
Baby's Breath
Propped on a pile of pillows, Ski smiled down at the newborn, who now lay draped across her breast, softly snoring.
“Funny,” she said, running a hand over the thin, golden wisps of hair that topped the tiny girl’s head, “all the trouble over someone so small.”
Lyssa sniffed. “If you think about where she came from, she’s hardly that small.”
Ski groaned. “I’ll thank you not to mention that again,” she said. “But truly,” she plucked one little hand from where it lay and gave Mara’s fingers a gentle squeeze, “can you think of anything so precious as this?”
Forget-me-not
“I know that you are there,” said Ski to the feathery touch that trailed down her arm, leaving gooseflesh in its wake.
“You find the most opportune times to visit me,” she said, sliding the last button free and shrugging out of her blouse. She dropped it and picked up her nightgown. The invisible hand slid back up her arm and across her shoulders.
“Do you hear me? See me? Or is this-” She reached her own hand up to grasp the one that continued to touch her. Her fingers closed on nothing but air. “Is this all we have?”
Dandelion
Ski stood at the window, the calico cat curled on the sill, peering out the glass with her as if it had as great an interest in what the girl outside was up to as she did.
In the yard, Mara twirled about in the grass with her arms flung wide and fingers spread to sweep through the air. Her head was thrown back, strawberry-golden locks streaming out behind her as she spun.
Throughout the yard, tiny puffs of white rose, as if by their own accord, from their stalks and gathered in thick clouds that danced along with her.
Poison Ivy
“Don’t take me for a fool,” said Kinari. “I know what the girl is and who her father is.”
Ski froze, grateful her back was to the woman. “You…you do?”
“The seed of the hand that defies death. I’m well aware who your sister’s lover was. I’m familiar with his powers. And Mara’s.”
“But she’s not-” Ski swallowed hard. She looks just like her father, she thought. But did she really? And the things she’d seen her do… “Oh gods.”
“Where are you off to now?”
“You were right. I must be the one to find her."
“Good girl."
Rose Petals
“How?” she said, and “Why?” and a hundred other poorly framed questions that it seemed Tristan was only willing to answer by laying his hands and his lips on any part of her he could reach.
It was like every dream, every ghostly visit she’d had over the years, the feel of him everywhere, but this time real. Tears rolled down her cheeks as, between questions, she brought her lips to his again and again whenever she found them near, and she curled her arms around him and held him fast.
“Don’t ever, ever leave me again,” she told him.
Hanafubuki
One moment she was charging towards them, slicing a path through the churning mass of demons that covered the field, and the next she sank beneath the sea of bones and flesh. Tristan lunged forward, but a pair of shaking hands clung to his arm and tried to pull him back.
Wide-eyed and trembling, Mara looked up at him and shook her head. They both spun round at the sudden clap of thunder. Every demon on the field collapsed in a wave that rippled out from the center, sending bone and dust flying into the air to rain back down.
Weeping Willow
Tristan bent and dug a hand into the debris. He rose, spreading his fingers. Dust fell between them and scattered in the air. He did a slow turn in place, casting a long, weary look over the field. Yellowing bones and heaps of gray flesh covered the ground; the remains of at least a hundred of the beasts, left to lie right where they’d stood.
On the edge of the destruction, he found Mara, standing with Sham’s arms around her and her eyes on him. Tristan let the last of the dust fall and shook his head, and Mara wept.